Negative- a sequel to Positive
by abbyfillion22
Summary: Castle deals with the negative effects of Kate's pregnancy on their relationship while Senator Bracken returns to get rid of Beckett once and for all. Our favorite couple must work out the two very different issues before Kate's rapidly approaching due date. A sequel to the hit story, Positive.
1. Chapter 1

"_Don't stop," she whispered into his ear; arching into him to close the space separating them._

_He pushed harder into her; making her moan with pleasure. He gritted his teeth as she dug her nails into his spine; grabbing for support._

_The fire was blazing hot and a pool of sweat formed between their bodies; making them slide with ease against each other. The plaid blanket was tangled around their legs and they had knocked over the wine glasses. The shattered glass sat on the hearth; reflecting the dancing flames._

_His mouth worked its way down her neck; resting on her pulse point. She tasted salty and sweet at the same time; like the best prepared martini. He ran his fingers through her long wavy hair; catching in a knot. She was so familiar; he knew every inch of her, yet always felt the need to explore._

_His hands were patient and gentle as he moved them from her face to her neck, down her chest and to the dip in her stomach between her ribs._

_She begged for him; wanting more._

_He took his time; making her anxious. His fingers worked their way meticulously to her legs where they circled teasingly. He made slow circles; progressing from the inside of her knee upwards until they were brushing against her folds._

_She shuddered despite the heat and _

"Darling?"

Castle jumped and slammed the laptop shut.

Martha was taken aback. "Why so jumpy?"

Castle rubbed his cheeks with his hands. "Nothing, it's nothing." It was more than awkward when his mom walked in on him when he was in the middle of writing a steamy sex scene.

"Ah," said Martha, giving him a knowing look. "Do you have everything packed?"

He sighed, pushing at the screen lock on the computer; itching to get back to Jameson and Nikki. He and Kate hadn't had sex in… ten weeks! Had it really been that long? Writing about it was his means of coping. What had Natalie Rhodes called it? Ah, yes, "verbal masturbation".

Kate's morning sickness had rendered her incapable of doing anything much past puking, eating, and sleeping. Castle didn't bother her about it; he knew that she was suffering far more than he was. His needs came second these days.

"Yes, Mother," he replied with a hint of sarcasm. He drummed his fingers against the shiny plastic screen and waited for her to show herself out.

To his displeasure, Martha took a seat across from him; moving aside a box of books to clear a space. "I'm going to miss you," she said for the hundredth time that day.

He nodded. "I know, but I'm going to be right across town."

A month ago, Castle had received an advance from Black Pawn that he used to purchase a beautiful new family-friendly loft on Madison. He and Kate had instantly fallen in love with it after viewing it for the first time online. It had high ceilings with exposed brick and wood floors cut from oak trees in Thailand along with a private elevator and a view to die for. The huge floor to ceiling window in the living room overlooked the Hudson River and opened up to a stone terrace that was big enough to fit a Jacuzzi, grill, and tables. Kate's favorite part about the new place was the walk-in closet that would make Carrie Bradshaw jealous. Best of all, it was within walking distance of a park and a nationally-ranked elementary school. It had cost him an arm and leg, but he couldn't pass it up; it was just too perfect.

Martha sighed heavily, causing her son to take pity on her.

Rick got up and gave her a hug. "You'll be fine here without me. Just think of all the parties you can host now that your stick-in-the-mud son isn't here to break them up."

Martha chuckled and patted him on the back. "Katherine called while you were in the shower and I took the liberty of answering for you-"

"You answered my-"

She held up her hand to silence him. She hated being interrupted. "She said that the moving truck is going to her apartment first then stopping at yours on the way. It should be here around 11:30 AM. She's not feeling well so she's sleeping at her apartment tonight."

He lifted the screen slightly and the keyboard lit up. "Thanks Mother."

Martha nodded sadly and turned to leave. "I really am going to miss you, Richard." She had her back to him but she could hear him tapping at the keyboard.

He grunted in response, already deep in his story again. He knew that he wasn't fun to be around lately. His sour attitude was a combination of worry, guilt, and sex deprivation. Worry: because Kate would soon be giving birth to his son. Guilt: because he was more worried than she was and was more concerned about how it would affect him. Sex Deprivation: well… he had gotten so used to having Kate for himself every single night. Now, she spent more time in bed with _What to Expect When You're Expecting_ than him. She read that damn book like a bible; its pages worn and yellowed from being read over and over again.

His phone vibrated somewhere on his desk. He shoved stacks of unfinished manuscripts and drafts aside to find it. The caller ID told him it was Kate. "Hey," he answered, putting the phone between his shoulder and ear so he could keep writing.

"Hi," she said timidly.

He sensed the nervousness in her voice. "What happened?" She only used that tone when there was something she wanted to say but couldn't.

"Want to come over?" she said slowly. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully.

"Um, yeah, of course," he responded. He found her question curious. She knew that if he wanted to come over, he would just let himself in. There was obviously something wrong.

She sniffed. "I'll leave the door unlocked."

He gathered his coat and scarf. "I'll be over in ten."

"Castle?"

"Yeah?"

She paused. "Be careful… I heard that there's a shifty homeless guy around the corner."

What was she implying? "Alright."

He hung up and hurried out the door; excited by the mysterious air about their conversation. He hadn't been at the precinct in a month; choosing instead to stay at home with Kate during her maternity leave and he was looking for any excitement he could get. Little did he know, he would get much more excitement than he ever hoped for in the next few days.

* * *

Despite the fact that the door was unlocked, Castle still knocked.

Kate greeted him with a warm grin. She was eight and a half months pregnant and had that glow that they described in all those pregnancy books. She had stopped wearing heels a long time ago and opted instead to wear practical flats; making her seem short in comparison.

He immediately noticed that she was holding her gun and eyed it questioningly.

She glanced down at it and casually tucked it in the back of her jeans. "Let's take a walk."

He looked past her out the window. "It's dark outside."

"Yeah, well…" she looked around. "I need some air."

He nodded, knowing that there must be an explanation to this madness.

Kate took his hand and dragged him downstairs; not talking until they were a few feet away from the building. "We couldn't talk in there." She glanced up and down the street to make sure they were alone. She reached into her pocket and extracted a flat metal disk. It was slightly cracked on one face and small green wires protruded from it.

He took it and turned it over in front of his eyes. "What is this?"

She tapped it. "A bug."

"A bug?!" he said incredulously.

She shushed him and checked again to see that no one had heard.

He lowered his voice. "Who the hell would want to bug your apartment?"

"I'll give you one guess," she said, waving a hand at a nearby political billboard.

Castle stared at the blown-up picture of the senator. "No."

"Who else could it be?" she said, crossing her arms. She bit her thumbnail and stared blankly past him. "Oh, I got this too." She handed him a folded up piece of copy paper.

_This can't be good._ He thought as he unfolded it.

**_The deal is off; you have nothing on me._**

"Still think it could be someone else?" she asked, snatching the paper away.

"How did he find out that you don't have the file?"

She started walking down the street again and he followed close behind her. "I have no clue, but look." She pointed to a tall building across from hers.

He squinted into the darkness. "Is that a…?"

She nodded. "It's a camera."

The security camera looked like every other street cam, but it was clearly pointed towards her apartment window.

"He's spying on you," he muttered. "Good thing we're moving."

Senator Bracken-who Beckett had a falling out with a year ago-was in the running to be president. It was no wonder that he wanted to sever any ties that could connect him to his past association with the police-mobster scandal. Kate had won her safety from Bracken by lying that she had a file with the bank statements that would ruin his career if they got out.

"Castle," she said, regaining his attention. "We have to settle this; we can't raise a baby with this hanging over us. It's too dangerous." She absentmindedly ran her hand over her abdomen.

"You're right, but what can we do? I mean, the man is running to be the future president; he won't let anything get in his way of that," he said. "With his connections, he can easily set up an "accident"."

"Don't you think I know that?" she snapped, turning away from him. She let out a shuddering breath and ran her hand through her hair. "He's got us in checkmate."

Castle watched her pace in the near dark. She passed under a streetlamp that illuminated the side of her face in an eerie orange-black glow. Her face was lined with worry and he had no words of comfort for her; she was right. He didn't know what she was thinking; going up against such a powerful man with almost nothing to back her up. If you're going to threaten a future president; you need serious leverage and she had none.

Kate tried not to look at the Senator Bracken for Republican President posters plastered on every telephone pole and brick wall on the street. The scar on the left side of his face where she had hit him with her gun was Photoshopped out. She wondered if Bracken had asked for it to be removed for the sake of his ego. It was a constant reminder of all the people he had killed to protect his reputation; she had made sure of that. "Whenever you see it, think of me," she had said after leaving him with a deep gash across his cheek.

She wished she could see that scar; it showed that Bracken was vulnerable too. But, thanks to the miracle of Adobe and airbrushing, she wasn't blessed with that small pleasure.

"What have I gotten myself into?" she mumbled, fingering the ring around her neck. "I shouldn't have confronted him; it only made things worse."

Castle put his hand on her shoulder. "You had no choice; they were going to kill you."

She wiped her eyes. "I can't bring a baby into this. This is _my _problem, not his."

"We'll figure it out," he assured her. He put his arms around her and kissed her cheek. "It'll be okay."

Kate gripped his hand for support and nodded. She wanted to believe him but that would be denying the truth.

The sudden threat made her anxious and slightly nauseous. She swayed on her feet and Castle had to hold her up. "I'm fine," she said, standing up straight and willing her dinner to stay down.

He looked at her with concern in his eyes. The lamplight made his normally blue eyes look brown and dark. "Are you?"

Her lip trembled and she laid her head against his shoulder. "No." She felt the waterworks coming and nothing could stop the tears from falling. She had so little control over her emotions lately as it was and this new problem did her in.

Castle pulled her against him and let her cry. He wished he could have a breakdown too but someone had to keep their head during this fiasco or else they would both dissolve into a big puddle of nothing.

Suddenly, all of his past worries diminished into the shadow of the elephant in the room. He had hoped that after Kate had saved Bracken's life, all of this would go away. But obviously; Bracken wasn't one to keep score –or at least one to acknowledge the score- and would not stop until his secret was buried with her.

* * *

_"I can be so **negative** sometimes; my own worst enemy sometimes. Even if I **always** go, you **still** have hope. When I want to quit, you won't let me, when I'm falling down, you will catch me. You pick me up, you fix me up, now I'm on my way. And I'm strong enough to say: You give me wings and taught me to fly when I was out there on my own. You gave me wings and brought me to life and now I need to know if you want to fly cause I wanna fly." -Wings._


	2. Chapter 2

_Nothing like plotting to take down the future president to bring a couple together_, thought Castle bitterly. This had to be the _worst _time to bring Bracken into the picture again which is probably why the politician had held off for so long; he wanted to wait until they were the most vulnerable. Kate was due any day now and they couldn't risk putting their newborn in harm's way.

Castle sat on top of one of the many boxes stacked in the middle of Kate's apartment. He chose the box that looked the sturdiest which turned out to be the one labeled: Castle Books. Like him, Kate had an extensive book collection that made up half of her total belongings.

Kate handed him a bottle of water; the only beverage that she kept at her place anymore since she had found out she was pregnant. He gulped it down gratefully; not stopping until he was sucking out air and making the thin plastic crackle.

"You drink like a fish," Kate commented; a vain attempt at humor.

He tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace.

She pulled up a box across from him labeled: Patterson & King Books. She sipped her SmartWater and peered at him over the bottle; trying to decipher his facial expressions.

He looked vaguely like the Thinker; his chin propped up on a closed fist as he stared blankly at the opposite wall. He had barely looked at her since he arrived.

She ducked her head so her face was in his line of sight. "Hey."

He blinked and shook himself. "What?"

"Nothing," she mumbled. He wasn't acting hostile towards her necessarily; but something in his voice had changed over the last few months. There was no playful banter between them that she had come to enjoy. Whenever they talked; it was like a scene from the beginning of Mr. & Mrs. Smith.

Rick: How was your day?

Kate: Fine. How was yours?

Rick: Good. I got a lot of writing done today.

Kate: Did you?

Rick: Yup.

Kate: How did that go?

Rick: Fine. What did you do today?

Kate: This and that. Ryan called me to talk about this new case…

Then, they would get into a conversation about the latest homicide at the 12th. It made Kate wonder what will happen when she's not working for the NYPD anymore. Will their relationship become dull without all of the excitement with her job? She tried to think of the last time they had an engaging conversation not about someone's death.

Castle said something that she missed.

"I'm sorry, what?" she said, coming back to the present.

"Watch," he said, holding up his index finger. He flicked it four times fast, paused, then three times more slowly, paused, once fast and twice slow. He continued to do this for a minute, and then repeated the sequence.

It took her a few moments to realize that he was doing Morse Code. She watched his finger carefully. H-O-W… she squinted at his fingers. "Slow down," she said.

He did as he was told.

M-A-N-Y… B-U-G-S… D-I-D… U… F-I-N-D. How many bugs did you find?

She held up one finger. "There's probably more though." She figured that between Castle's coded messages and her short responses, no one would know what they were discussing. She glanced out the side window to make sure that Castle wasn't within the camera's view.

Kate thought that the creepiest part about this whole thing was that wretched camera. It wasn't just creepy; it was pervy. She had her rights as a private citizen and now Bracken took that from her. She felt violated; like she had been raped. Okay, maybe that's a bit of a dramatic comparison. She wondered who was on the other side of that camera feed and if they enjoyed watching her take her clothes off and have her way with Rick on the kitchen counter the other week. She shuddered and crossed her arms over her chest. Up until today, she had thought that everything she did in her own home was private.

She wished that she could go over to the window and put a bullet in the camera lense but she knew that would give away that she knew about the spyware. At this point, Bracken probably didn't care what she knew; she would be dead within the week.

Castle followed her gaze out the window. He could vaguely make out the outline of the surveillance camera. Whoever put it there didn't do a good job of hiding it.

He dug around in one of the boxes holding miscellaneous office supplies and took out a notepad and Sharpie.

**Maybe we can trace the camera back to Bracken. If the press found out he's a peeping tom, he'll be taken out of the running and never hold any kind of office again. Plus, he would be sent to prison. It would be like catching Capone on tax evasion.**

Kate shook her head silently and motioned for him to give her the pad.

**It's not big enough to break him. Bracken has an Achilles heel somewhere; we just need to find it. Like the linchpin that holds him together.**

Castle took the paper back and wrote hastily:

**So we can cause one domino to tip that will cause the entire structure to crumble; I.E. leak the story without it being traced to us.**

She bit her lip. "We either have to…" she sliced a finger across her throat, "him or run. Or both."

Castle's eyes grew wide. Was Kate serious? She would really kill Bracken? He debated it. She had said before that in her dreams, she was the one who got to pull the trigger that kills Bracken. It wasn't a very pretty thought for such a pretty girl. Kate wanted justice, but she wasn't a killer. She _had _killed people in the past, but she never shot to kill and when she did, she was protecting someone.

Kate had that gleam in her eyes; the determined look that she got when she needed to get a job done. Her expression scared Castle. It was a familiar look that he recognized from when she was solving her mom's murder and it nearly drove her over the edge of self-destruction. Kate didn't stop until she had vengeance.

Castle suggested that they move to his place where there were significantly less bugs and they could speak freely.

They didn't talk until they were safely inside his loft.

Kate turned in a circle, unsure of what to do.

"No point in worrying about it now," Rick said, hanging her coat. "Let's get some sleep and we can tackle this in the morning."

"Castle."

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said with a sarcastic smile. "I only just found at that you're number one on someone's kill list."

Kate hated when he did this; tried to make a serious situation sound humorous. "That's not it. You were like this before tonight. So what's bothering you?" She tried to make him look at her but he was staring at the floor again.

"Nothing, everything's peachy," he griped, cracking his knuckles.

She scoffed. "Castle, if you have something to say, just say it for the sake of both of our sanities." The baby turned inside her and she lurched.

He reached out and steadied her, leading her to his bed and sitting her down. "Get some rest," he said bitterly.

"Castle-"

"Beckett, I don't want to talk about it. It's not important right now."

"Castle."

"Beckett."

"Castle, we promised to tell each other everything. Remember? We're in this together," she said accusingly. He watched her move to the dresser only to realize that all of his clothes were packed away for moving.

He let out an exasperated sigh and scratched his chest. "It's not important, alright?"

"It must be important if you're worried about it," she said, pressing her hand to her stomach as the baby gave another sharp kick.

Castle sat next to her and put his hand over hers, feeling their son move inside of her. "This is the only important thing right now," he said, tilting her chin upwards.

She frowned and turned away. He was the one who was putting up barriers. Ever since the day she had told him that she was having his baby, nothing had been the same. They pretended that it was, but they both knew that it was different. Castle didn't quite have a wall; more like an impenetrable veil that she could see and touch him through, but never be with him on the other side.

"Get some sleep," he said, tucking the covers up around her like she was a child.

"Castle-" she protested. She wanted to talk about this; to work everything else so they could be together again. Together for real; not this bullshit relationship they had been hiding in for the past eight months.

He silenced her with a long kiss. "I love you."

She blinked up at him. "I love you too."

And love was enough for now.

* * *

_And everything has changed._

_All I know is you held the door;_

_You'll be mine and I'll be yours._

_All I know since yesterday is everything has changed._

_And all my walls stood tall; __painted blue,_

_I'll take them down, take them down_

_And open up the door for you._

_-Everything Has Changed_


	3. Chapter 3

Kate woke up to a cold bed. She rolled onto her back and felt the sheet next to her where Castle should have been. There was only a slight indentation in the mattress where he usually lies. She missed the days that she woke up with his arms around her; it always felt like the safest place in the world.

Rick's recent withdrawal from their relationship worried her. She felt so alone even when he was right next to her. He seemed so uninterested for how much he cared if that made sense.

She knew that they weren't having sex as often as usual but he really couldn't be this bitter about that could he? Their relationship wasn't based on that; it was based on trust and care and genuine want for the other to be happy. Plus, she satisfied him whenever she was healthy enough to; he couldn't really expect to her to be in his bed 24/7. No, his lack of interest was deeper rooted than his lack of sex.

Kate rubbed the sleep from her eyes and rested her arms over her stomach. She still couldn't fathom how she had managed to grow a person inside of her. It was so strange to think about; that in less than a week, she would have a son; a living, breathing part of her that would rely completely on her for its survival. It was a lot of pressure. Not to mention, she was on the hit list of one of the most powerful men in America.

Rick sauntered into the room in his boxers. "I have a pla-an!" he said in a singsong voice.

She grinned. "Do you now?" She decided to let last night's conversation slide until she heard about this amazing scheme of his.

"I do!" he said, giving her a good morning kiss. He seemed in a particularly good mood today. Maybe it was his new sense of purpose.

He practically skipped out of the room and came back pushing his virtual murder board and balancing a tray laden with breakfast in the other arm. He set the tray down in front of her but she didn't touch it.

He drew a collapsible pointer from his pocket and tapped the board. "Here's what we do."

A 3D animation of Kate's apartment appeared with two people that resembled them standing in front of the window.

Kate chuckled at his nerdiness. He could have just explained his plan but no, he went all out because he was Castle.

Rick tapped on their avatars and it zoomed in. "We'll be standing here in front of the window where the camera is." He tapped the screen and the picture turned to a bird's eye layout. He circled two red Xs on the opposite end of the apartment with his pointer. "This X, the smaller one, is a smoke bomb." He clicked on it and the X began to blink. "It will go off exactly thirty seconds before the second explosive, the real one, goes off." The simulation turned grey and foggy. "The smoke will cloud the windows and the camera across the street won't be able to see us. We get out of there before the second bomb goes off. We'll steal two bodies from the morgue and leave them in the place we were standing at. The explosion will be so bad, that no one will be able to identify the bodies." He waited for her response.

She went over what he had just said. "We fake our own deaths."

Rick threw up the pointer and caught it again. "Exactly."

"And we blow up my apartment."

"Yes." He bit his upper lip.

Kate thought about it. "I like it. But there are a lot of things that could go wrong."

He collapsed the pointer. "Like what?"

Kate got up and pressed the avatars. "What if we don't get far enough away in time?"

"We run… fast," he responded plainly.

Her avatar began walking out the door. "And the neighbors? If the explosion is big enough that they can't identify the bodies, the neighbor's apartments will be affected."

"I got it all covered, darling," he said confidently. "The bomb will be small but effective."

She paced in front of the board. "How do we get out of the building without being spotted?"

Castle pointed to the CG window that was almost an exact copy of the one in her apartment. "That camera doesn't pan. It points in one direction and that's it. It isn't meant to track you outside of the apartment."

She was impressed; he really had thought of everything. "Where do we go then if we're supposedly dead?"

"We take a plane to Paris," he grinned. He knew that she always wanted to travel the world and this was their chance. They would be free from the weight of their identities. "Just until we figure out our next move."

She looked skeptically at him. "Why Paris?"

He shrugged. "Why _not_ Paris?"

She opened her mouth but couldn't argue with his logic. She ran her hands across her face and to her hair. She sighed and tried to think of holes in his plan. It was a brilliant; she had to admit. If Bracken thought she was dead, he would let his guard down and maybe she could find the chinks in the armor.

"We can't involve anyone else," said Castle. "It'll just complicate things. We can contact your dad and Mother and Alexis once we're in the protection of Interpol to let them know we didn't… you know, explode."

She cocked her head in agreement. "When do we leave?"

"Now."

"Now?"

"Now. I have everything ready to go. I withdrew $8,000 in cash this morning. It's enough to get us what we need without calling attention to abnormal activity on my account. I've withdrawn more before so it looks completely natural. They probably think I'm going for a big gamble or something," he explained, holding up the stacks of twenties.

"And you didn't wait to see if I would be okay with it?" she asked, slightly hurt. She didn't like that he assumed that she would go along with it.

He gave her a blank stare. "I knew you would." Even if she didn't agree, he would make her come anyways for her own safety and the safety of his son.

She shook it off. "Whatever. Did you get the corpses?"

"Yes."

"From where?"

"Don't ask."

"Castle."

"I have a friend…"

"Of course you do."

He shook his head. "Just go with it; it's going to work."

She could only guess how he got the body bags past the lobby of her apartment without drawing suspicion.

"The bodies and our carry-ons are in the storage closet three doors down from your place. As soon as the first bomb goes off, we drag the John and Jane Does into the apartment, get our things, and jet off to Paris," he said, gesticulating. "It'll be like an adventure. Our son will be half French and half American. Maybe he'll have a cute accent."

"Wait a minute," she interjected, holding up her hand. "You said it will only be for a little while that we'll be there."

"Correction," he said poignantly. "I said "until we figure out our next move". It could take a while." He drummed his fingers across his lips and peered out the window, humming the James Bond theme to himself.

"Castle," she said sternly. "Look at me. I can't travel like this. My water could break at any moment."

As if on cue, baby Castle kicked, causing Kate to clutch her abdomen.

"It will only add to the suspense," he said excitedly.

She was glad that at least one person was finding this situation fun. She, on the other hand, was terrified. Everything and nothing could go wrong with their plan.

"Come one Kate, why are you holding back? This plan could be our only move out of check. Bracken has us cornered at every other step," he pointed out. "You can have the baby in Paris and when we get back, he will have dual citizenship."

She tried to think of an excuse to say no. "It's just… I wanted my dad there after the baby's born."

His expression softened. "Me too. But we need to move now or we might miss our chance."

She sniffed, buying her time to think about it. "Okay. I'm trusting you, Rick." She knew how his plans went down. They worked maybe 1/10 of the time and usually ended with someone bleeding on the ground. The plan was genius; maybe a little insane, but genius. And a bad plan is better than no plan and Kate couldn't think of anything else so she let Rick take the reins.

Besides, seeing Rick work out this grand scheme gave her a glimpse of the old times. His playful demeanor was back and he looked happy for once. Even if this plan went terribly wrong, what was the worst that could happen?

They could wind up dead.

But Plato once said that death isn't the worst thing that could happen to you and she was willing to let the philosopher's famous words give her strength as they set the plan into action.


	4. Chapter 4

The more Kate thought about the plan, the more she had doubts. This plan could go terribly wrong and then she'd wind up with a second blown-up apartment and lose their advantage. Her insurance company would start to get suspicious if two of her apartments were blown up in the same decade.

Castle continued to hum as he fidgeted with the explosives in his backpack.

"And you're sure these will work?" asked Kate, turning over the smoke bomb. It was small and black with bronze wires sticking out everywhere. If she didn't know better, she'd say that Rick had stolen it from a contemporary art exhibit at the Smithsonian.

Rick took the bomb from her and placed it strategically in the mesh lining the side of the backpack. "Positive. I mapped it all out."

She chewed the inside of her cheek and looked around. They were standing in the hallway right outside of her apartment. One of her neighbors passed by in his bathrobe and gave her a friendly nod.

Castle tried to act normal; not like he was about to blow up the building.

Kate fidgeted and scratched her temple. "Castle, I have a bad feeling about this."

He huffed and straightened up. "Why do you have to be so negative?!" he snapped.

She was taken aback by his sharp answer. "I'm not-"

"You are!" he said, his voice squeaky. "You don't trust me!"

Kate put her hands on her hips and glowered. "I trust _you_, It's the bombs I don't trust!"

His nose twitched and he picked up the backpack. He looked left and right before putting his hand under her chin. "Look, Kate. I'm doing this for you; so you can have a life without worrying all the time."

"I know that!"

"Then let me protect you," he said sternly. His blue eyes had turned icy and were full of anger.

Kate didn't understand what his problem was. She was the one who was pregnant after all; _she's _the one who should be cranky all the time. "Castle, if this goes south, people can get hurt including us and we will get _arrested_. Why is my life worth any more than my neighbor's?"

Castle hoisted the backpack higher on his shoulder. "At least you'll be safe in jail."

Kate narrowed her eyes. What kind of comment was that? "Castle, I don't want to just survive, I want to _live_."

He laughed. "What the hell is the difference, Kate, as long as you're alive?"

She shook her head in pity. He honestly didn't believe that there was no difference between surviving and living. "Let's just get this done."

Castle hoisted the backpack further up his shoulder. "Fine." He pushed his way inside the apartment and held the door open for her. He gently shut the door and took her hand, dropping the pack next to the fireplace. They slowly made their way to the window; from the outside, it would look like they were simply reminiscing on the good times they had here before moving. Rick came to a stop in front of the window and pretended to be pointing at a flock of birds flying past.

Kate was careful not to let her gaze linger on the camera across the street.

"3…2…1…" Rick muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "0."

There was a loud bang and the entire apartment was filled with thick smoke. Kate covered her mouth with her arm and Rick guided her to the exit.

He hurriedly dragged the two corpses into place while Kate got a head start at the stairs. It wasn't easy to fake your own death and flee the country when your due date is approaching.

She heard the sound of Rick's pounding footsteps in the echoing stairwell as the second bomb went off. The fire alarms began screaming; the sound magnified in the enclosed space. She took the steps two at a time; her bag bouncing against her back as she moved.

All the time, Rick had a protective hand on her back; urging her forward. In a few minutes, they would be outside and free from Bracken.

Kate turned the last corner before reaching the ground floor. They stepped out into the cold autumn air and she looked skywards. Her apartment was up in flames and glass had showered onto the street below. The fire licked up out of the window and turned the outer brick black.

Castle grabbed her hand and dragged her across the street where he hailed a cab. He made sure that Kate was safely inside before sliding in himself. "JFK airport," he told the driver.

They both took a minute to catch their breath.

Castle grinned at her. "Told you it would work."

She laughed nervously and leaned over to kiss him. She usually was the one who had to break up their kisses, but he was the one to pull away this time. She searched his eyes but they were impassive.

He rubbed his nose awkwardly and settled his duffle at his feet.

Kate cleared her throat and but he turned coldly away from her, resting his head on the grimy taxi window.

They drove in silence; the only sound was the Spanish talk radio playing at a low volume from the front of the cab.

Castle checked his supplies for the hundredth time: cash, two one-way tickets, a change of clothes, shoes, and a burner phone.

Beckett had chosen to leave her gun at home; it would only bring trouble at airport security. It made her feel naked and vulnerable and she wished that Castle would say something reassuring. Every person that they passed made her suspicious. She could imagine them drawing a gun and putting a bullet through her skull before she could even register what had happened.

Something had been tugging at the back of Kate's mind. "Why Paris?"

He turned to her. "Excuse me?"

"Seriously," she said, wanting a straight answer for once. "Why did you choose Paris?"

He sat up and looked at her. "Because of Interpol," he lied. The real reason was that it was the most romantic place in the world and he hoped to repair their relationship there.

Kate nodded, but she didn't believe him. The claustrophobic area in the cab was suffocating them with the words going unsaid.

Castle sighed when the airport came into view. He tapped on the glass separating them from the driver. He handed him five twenties even though the tab came out to $23.90.

"Gracias," said the driver, tucking the roll into his breastpocket.

"De nada," Rick said with a wave of the hand.

Kate put her sunglasses on and watched an American Airline take off outside her window. Rick was being warmer to the cabbie than to her and she didn't appreciate it. She figured that they could sort it out once they were airborne and he couldn't run away.

* * *

As usual, airport security was a bitch. Kate had to go through the metal detector three times before they escorted her to a back room for a strip search.

Castle put his shoes and belt back on as he waited for her.

She came back looking disheveled and pissed off.

A grin crept onto Castle's face. "Underwire?"

Kate ground her teeth and glared at the male customs agent that had searched her. He looked awfully pleased with himself for someone who was "just doing his job". "Yeah. I swear it's like they think I'll use my bra as a garrote."

They exchanged surly looks before laughing. Their fellow travelers glared at them and shoved them out of their way.

"Damn honeymooners," an old man griped as he passed.

Castle shouldered both of their bags and let Kate lean on him as she zipped up her boots and adjusted her jacket.

Their flight was scheduled to leave in ten minutes so they sat down in the docking area.

Castle jogged off and came back with two of Kate's guilty pleasures: a mocha cookie crumble frappuccino with extra whipped cream and this month's issue of Vogue.

He gave it to her as a peace offering and Kate stared at them skeptically; looking for a catch. He shoved them both into her hands and sat down with his own latte and National Geographic.

Kate stirred her drink with the straw; reluctant to take a sip. It had taken her a while to wean herself off of caffeine at the beginning of her pregnancy and she knew that as soon as she had a taste, she wouldn't be able to stop. She was worse than an alcoholic when it came to her coffee and she was eight months sober.

"Just drink it," Rick said, noticing her hesitancy. "One small cup won't hurt."

She didn't need to be told twice. She took a quick sip; letting the cool drink slip down her taste buds and clear her head. It was the best thing she had ever tasted and it made her even happier that Rick had gotten it for her. Coffee was their silent way of saying "I love you". She grinned to herself as she licked some of the cream from her straw.

Kate was surprised that Castle had remembered that she was a closet Vogue subscriber. No one else knew this secret about her besides him and she briefly got a glimpse of the old Rick; the one that went above and beyond just to see her smile.

Rick watched her out of the corner of his eye.

Kate caught him staring and he sheepishly pulled his magazine up over his eyes.

She scooted closer to him and he peeked at her. He quickly looked away and tried to focus on the fascinating article about the polar ice caps.

Kate placed her hand on the top of the magazine and lowered it from his face.

He frowned and looked past her.

"I love you too," she said, holding up her half empty Starbucks cup.

* * *

_And all I feel in my stomach is butterflies;_

_the beautiful kind, making up for lost time,_

_taking flight making me feel like_

_I just want to know you better._

_-Everything has Changed_

* * *

**[Author's Note: Fall cross country season is starting up next Monday so I will not be able to upload stories as much as I have been this summer. I will write when I have a spare moment but most of my time will be dedicated to running from Monday on so don't hate me if I leave you hanging. Thanks for understanding, reader! With love, Abby.]**


	5. Chapter 5

Eighteen hours later, their plane landed in Paris, France. Their flight had been delayed twice due to inclement weather and the rain just didn't let up.

They took a town car to their hotel an hour away. Kate watched the raindrops race down her window like she did when she was a little kid. Thunder boomed in the distance and she counted the seconds between each set. _One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, four one thousand._ Rumble. The storm was four miles away.

Old buildings and fountains blurred past and she tried to soak it all in. Something about the downpour made the city look even more spectacular; like the rain enhanced every detail and made it sparkle.

They stopped at a red light and she squinted at a strangely shaped figure in the middle of the sidewalk. Whoever was outside in this weather was crazy. As the figure came into focus, she realized that it was not one but two people wrapped in a close embrace; a young boy and girl standing under a bright yellow umbrella. They couldn't be any older than twelve, but here they were; kissing in the pouring rain. They both had to be soaked to the bone; the strong winds were blowing the shower this way and that. Kate smiled. This really was the most romantic city in the world but she felt so alone.

Rick had gone back to his sultry self on the plane; choosing to put on his noise-canceling headphones and take a nap. Kate had tried to engage a meaningful conversation, but he just wouldn't have it.

She tore her gaze away from the young couple as the light turned green and the taxi eased forwards. She glanced at her boyfriend who was immersed in a pamphlet.

They both sat stiffly on opposite ends of the back seat; a good two feet between them but they might as well been a million miles apart. If they had taken this trip a year ago, they wouldn't have been able to take their hands off each other for even a second. But her pregnancy had changed that for the worse and now they were in Paris; supposedly dead for all anyone else knew and running from the future president.

The driver said something in French and thanks to three semesters of foreign languages, Kate was fairly fluent.

"This hotel you're staying at is the best there is," said the driver. "Ruddy weather but it'll clear up."

"How far is it?" Kate asked in French.

Rick looked up from the pamphlet and stared at her. He had no idea that she could speak another language let alone _French_. It was pretty damn hot.

Kate glanced at him and he swallowed hard pretended it wasn't a big deal even though he was dying to tear her clothes off.

"Only five or so more minutes," replied the driver. "Are you from around here?"

She shook her head. "We're from the States."

"Ah," the driver nodded, looking at her in the rear view mirror. "America: the birthplace of AIDS."

Kate laughed. "I guess you could say that."

"You fooled me; your accent is excellent," said the driver; veering into a narrow street.

Rick tapped her on the shoulder. _What did he say?_ He mouthed.

She gave him a _Oh, so _now _you're acknowledging me_ look.

The driver eased onto a second road and the Eiffel Tower came into view. Portraits and paintings that Kate had seen did the structure no justice. It was simply breathtaking.

"When are you due?" asked the driver.

Kate sighed. "Any day now." She absentmindedly ran her hand over her abdomen again. The thought that in a few days time, she could be a mom made her nervous.

The car slowed to a stop. "Here we are madame et monsieur. Enjoy your stay."

Castle gave him a generous tip and helped Kate out of the car. There was a small portico that was covered with a green canvas overhang going from the curb to the entrance. The rain pattered against it and pooled at the hem; creating a steady waterfall at the edges.

The hotel was named _Hotel ces Amoureux_, or Hotel of Lovers. The entire building was tastefully decorated and bathed in a warm glow coming from elegant crystal chandeliers that hung in every room. Roses were everywhere; in vases, on pillows and beds, and surrounding candles. Red was the central color scheme of the hotel and was used in almost every decoration.

Rick checked them in; receiving a curious stare from the desk manager for paying in cash and they were shown to their room.

Their suite was on the fourth floor and if you leaned out the window, you could see the Eifel. Rose petals were scattered on the king sized bed and the French doors leading out the balcony was left slightly ajar; filling the room with the smell of rain. It was the perfect place to vacation; but they weren't here to take in the sights.

Kate sat down heavily on one of the dainty couches. The red and gold fabric was stiff and scratchy and she could see other classy young women sitting here and sipping tea. But she was Kate Beckett and Kate Beckett didn't do that sort of thing. She moved to a more comfortable spot at the foot of the bed. A few petals floated to the ground as she sank into the overly soft mattress. "Where do we go from here?" she asked, taking her boots off to rub her sore feet.

Rick set down their bags on the armoire and cracked his back. "Relax. We just got here."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Castle, we're not here on holiday; we're hiding out until we come up with a better plan." She took one of the fallen petals and tore it in half then in quarters and so on until it was in miniscule pieces. She sprinkled it around her like red snow.

"I realized that," he said through gritted teeth. "I just want to sit down for a second before you jump on me." He sat on the weird tea couch and tried to get comfortable. Failing miserably, he sat down next to her.

She took his hand and rubbed the back of it with her thumb. "Please tell me what's wrong."

Rick stood up and went to the tall window that faced the street.

Kate sighed and ran her toe through the petal dust. "Castle, you can't treat me like this and not tell me what I did. It's not fair."

He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I think…" she paused and tore up another petal. "We need to work this out before the baby comes; just as much as we need to resolve the Bracken thing."

He picked at his cuticles and wished that he hadn't acted like such an ass before. He really wanted everything to be okay- better than okay- between them. "I agree. But I think the most pressing matter is the Bracken thing. As soon as you check into a hospital, Interpol will make it public information that we're here and very much alive."

Kate's jaw went slightly slack and she let out a deep sigh. "So what do we do? I can't give birth on my own; look at my hips," she gestured to her straight up and down figure. "I'd die."

"We'll get you to a hospital but we'll have to leave right away," said Rick. "Staying in one place for too long is dangerous." Rain was seeping in through the open door so he pushed them closed.

She moved to stand behind him and rested her chin on his shoulder. "I wish we could just escape and not worry anymore."

"Yeah," he muttered. "Me too." The few minutes after their faked death, Rick felt free. He was free from his everyday responsibilities and the only one he had to worry about then was Kate. Now he was thinking about his mom and daughter and the boys. They had to be devastated; losing both of them at once.

* * *

"There's been an explosion at one of the apartments on 9th," said Gates, hurrying into the pen to get all of the teams together. "At least two dead."

Ryan stood and zipped up his coat. "Gas leak?"

Gates shook her head solemnly. "No. It was a bomb."

Esposito quickly rummaged through the mess on his desk to find his car keys.

Gates stopped him; putting a hand on his shoulder. "There's something you should know."

Both detectives stopped. Gate's serious tone couldn't mean anything good.

Ryan searched her eyes then focused his attention on his shoes. He knew what was coming; he knew who lived on 9th.

"What?" asked Esposito; giving up on his search.

Gates took a deep breath and fiddled with the top button of her blazer. "The bomb was at Beckett's apartment."

Espo went pale. "Is she… I mean, she's okay, right?"

Ryan ran his hand through his hair and bit hard into his lower lip. "Jesus Christ," he muttered, sitting down again and putting his head in his hands.

Gates crossed her arms. "The bodies… we can't identify them but we found the remains of their phones a few feet away."

"Oh, God," Ryan said angrily, slamming his fist into the desk. He kicked his chair away and began pacing.

Esposito was in a state of denial. He didn't want to believe what the captain was saying; it couldn't be true. "_Their_ phones? What do you mean, "their"?" He gripped the back of his chair for support when Gates answered.

"Castle was with her."

Esposito swore loudly and Ryan punched the wall.

Ryan was distraught; trying hard not to completely lose it. He ran his hand across his face.

Beckett was like their older sister and now they say that they're dead? Just like that? Something didn't feel right about this; not just the fact that they're gone; but the whole way that they went. She and Castle have been through so much and to just die in an explosion? It seemed too… clean.

Esposito lowered his eyes so his partner and Gates couldn't see how hurt he was. "Does his daughter know?"

Gates sighed. "No. I was hoping that one of you would do it so it's coming from someone they knew."

Javi shook his head and sniffed, "Captain, I'm no good with this sort of thing. That was Beckett's forte."

The captain herself looked put out. Those two were her people; despite the fact that she resented Castle, she still cared about them. She saw so much of herself in Beckett. That girl had a promising future ahead of her. "Then do it for her, Detective," she said sternly.

"I'll do it," Ryan offered. He tugged at the collar of his shirt to get some air.

Gates nodded. "Good." She walked away. She couldn't bear to see their sad faces any longer.

Esposito swore again. "They're really gone."

Ryan put his scarf on and gripped his partner's shoulder. "Let's go. I want to tell Alexis before she hears it from someone else."

Espo nodded and followed Ryan to the elevator. "Right."

No one else was in the elevator but them and they descended in relative silence.

They didn't look at each other; choosing instead to stare at the shiny door in front of them.

Ryan sniffed loudly and Esposito turned to him.

Seeing each other; their eyes filled with tears and they broke down; engaging in a not-so-manly man hug; slapping each other on the back and supporting each other. They jumped apart when the lift dinged and the doors slid open. Both smoothed down their rumpled jackets, cracked their necks, and stepped out confidently.

* * *

Two fire trucks were parked out in front of the apartment building. White foam spilled out of the broken window of the third floor and a police tape kept the crowd at bay.

Dr. Lanie Parish shoved her way through the crowd; keeping her head ducked so the civilians couldn't see her crying. Before ducking under the tape, she collected herself for the sake of her job and took a deep breath. She couldn't believe that Kate was dead. But she was slightly comforted by the fact that Castle died with her; not that she liked that he was dead, but that's how they both would have wanted to go.

The uniform on sight saw her coming and escorted her upstairs to the burned out apartment. "Do we know where the bomb came from?"

CSU was poking around in the ashes and laying down number cards for her.

"The explosion site came from right here," said the uniform, pointing to a spot on the floor that was completely blown out.

Lanie walked cautiously up to the lumps on the ground that used to be bodies. They were now black and chunks of their flesh were blown off in places. Their faces were completely obscured by the blast and Lanie couldn't see any of her friends' distinguishing features.

Dr. Parish set her supply kit down next to her and went to work. All the while, she tried to act like this was just another normal crime scene and the victims meant nothing to her.

A cleanup crew was sifting through the rubble; looking for telling evidence but the place was empty.

Lanie knew that Kate was set to move out that morning to a gorgeous loft on Madison. It would be her first house with Rick and they were going to raise their son in it.

She sniffed and tried not to think about it.

Suddenly, she stopped and stood up.

This body wasn't Kate's.

Kate was eight and a half months pregnant and this corpse was thin as a stick.

Lanie let out a sigh of relief and brushed away tears of happiness.

After running a few more tests, she confirmed it; these bodies had been long dead before today; it couldn't be Kate and Castle!

Dr. Parish whipped out her phone and dialed Javi. She couldn't stop crying as she told him the good news.

When she hung up, she informed the detective of what she found.

"Why would someone blow up an empty apartment with two corpses in it?" asked Detective Coltraine, a beefy man with a thick mustache.

Coltraine studied the position of the bodies and stood next to the blown-out window. He looked up and down the street and then across to the building on the other side. He squinted. "There's a… a camera. And it's pointed right through this window."

Lanie kept a safe distance from the hole in the wall but she could see the camera clearly from where she was. "Someone was spying on her."

Coltraine turned and gave her an odd look; MEs didn't usually weigh in on murder investigations unless it was to talk about the bodies.

"Sorry," Dr. Parish muttered, going back to the corpse. She kept an ear towards the detective; listening for clues.

Detective Coltraine looked at the explosion site again. "The bomb didn't come in through this window," he said to his partner. "It was placed. And only someone who had access to this apartment could have put it there."

"You're saying that one Beckett blew up her own apartment?" asked Lanie, despite herself.

Coltraine glared at the ME. She obviously was personally involved with this Beckett person and he didn't believe that she was in her place to be here. "That's exactly what I'm saying. Either that, or her boyfriend blew it up to cover his tracks."

Lanie held up her hand, ignoring Coltraine's annoyed stare. "Wait a minute, Castle wouldn't blow up Beckett's apartment. She's having his baby."

Coltraine lifted an eyebrow. "Is he now? All the more reason to-"

Dr. Parish put her hands on her hips. "To what?"

"All I'm saying, doctor, is that Castle might not have been too happy about his child's birth," Coltraine said calmly, not looking to start a fight with the ME.

"Castle wanted that child even more than Kate did, detective," Lanie said loudly. "Don't go accusing that man of killing the love of his life." Lanie was a good two feet shorter than Detective Coltraine but he seemed to slink away at her confident stance.

"Then what do you suppose happened here, _doctor_?" Coltraine sighed, willing to humor her.

Lanie balled up her rubber gloves and shoved them in her pocket. "I know my girl, Kate. She's smart. This wouldn't happen against her knowledge. She…" she looked at the charred bodies. "These bodies were deliberately put here to throw us off."

"Why?" asked Coltraine's young partner.

Lanie wanted to know why _she _was the one putting this together and not the two detectives in the room. "They're hiding from something."

"Hiding?" said the partner. "From what?"

Dr. Parish rolled her eyes. "You noticed the camera pointing in this window?" she gestured to the hole where the window used to be. "They're hiding from whoever put that camera there. They made sure that they were in its line of sight when the bomb went off and then put corpses in their place so that person would think they're dead."

Coltraine couldn't hide is amazement at the doctor's intuition. He wondered if she was in the wrong profession. With a mind like hers, she could easily morph into a grade A detective. He turned to his partner. "Have CSU trace the feed in that security footage."

* * *

William Bracken's cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Everyone in the board room turned to stare at him. "I'm so sorry," he said earnestly, checking the caller ID. It was his correspondent.

"Senator," his lawyer warned. He jerked his head toward the head of the table where some PR bimbo was discussing his public appearances for the week.

Bracken stood quickly, his chair sliding backwards on its runners. "I need to take this."

His lawyer groaned. This meeting had been put off long enough and the Senator didn't show any interest in anything besides his personal side affairs. It was probably one of his many "companions" he picks up around the city.

Bracken hurried from the room and down the hall. He hit 'Accept' and glanced around to check that he was alone. "Yes?"

"Your problem's gone," said the correspondent.

Bracken had never actually met the correspondent. He only talked to him over the phone and he was the one to call first; always from a blocked number. The correspondent went by the code name Black. "What do you mean?" asked Bracken, clutching the phone. "What happened?"

"Her apartment was blown up this morning," said Black. "You won't have to worry about it anymore."

"I didn't authorize that," Bracken hissed. As much of a problem that Detective Beckett was, he still owed her for saving his life. He didn't forget those sort of things. Everyone keeps score.

Black laughed manically. "Have you grown soft towards the girl?"

"Of course not," Bracken said incredulously. He didn't know how to explain to the man that he had been in Beckett's debt.

"Besides," Black said, "We weren't the ones who made the hit."

"What do you mean? Who else would it be?" asked Bracken, lowering his voice as an assistant hurried past with coffee.

"Dunno," Black said nonchalantly. He didn't care how the target died, only that it was taken care of.

Bracken swallowed hard. "Good. That's uh, good."

"You should be happy, Senator," Black chirped. "Your secret's gone to the grave."

Bracken nodded to himself as the line went dead. Kate Beckett is gone for good; out of his mind. No one will ever know what he did and now there was nothing standing in the way of him becoming the President of the United States. So why wasn't he happy?

* * *

"One day, Kate," Rick said, holding up his index finger. "We enjoy ourselves here for one day before we worry about anything else."

Kate looked at him dubiously. "Castle, do you honestly think we'll be able to relax with this hanging over us?"

They were sitting side by side on the loveseat facing the window. The rain had slowed to a drizzle and the sky was a light gray-almost white-color. Castle had ordered a bowl of fruit for them to share and he now was preoccupied with peeling an orange. He shoved his thumb through the skin; squirting himself in the eye. His hand flew his face and rubbed the citrus from his burning iris.

Kate laughed internally and finished peeling it for him. She tore a section off and fed it to him.

He chewed slowly, watching Kate place a grape into her mouth.

She pressed down gently on the red seed; slowly excreting the sweet juice without breaking the skin.

"I think we deserve some time to ourselves," he said finally. He tore a stem of grapes off of her bushel and tossed one up; catching it in his mouth. "Come on, Beckett. Let's get lost in the city; it's beautiful out there."

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Kate rolled a huge grape between her fingers then tossed it into the air. Castle caught it between his teeth.

"One day won't hurt," he said. He tilted his head and gave her puppy dog eyes; knowing she couldn't resist him when she looked into his sad blue eyes.

She pursed her lips and considered it. One day really couldn't hurt, could it? They were free from all of their obligations and no one was expecting anything from them. It was like being a ghost.

She thought about her dad who had probably just gotten the news of her death and something twisted in the pit of her stomach. What if Jim went back to drinking? It was hard enough the first time around. And what about Alexis? Oh, God, Alexis! She had to be a mess right now. She hoped that Ryan or Esposito were the ones to break it to them. "Think about all the people we're hurting right now, Rick. Your daughter's all alone now," said Kate.

It was like a punch in the gut but Castle really wanted this time with Kate. "She's got Mother. And we'll be back before she knows it. Besides, I wouldn't put it past the boys to find out the truth; that we're not actually dead."

That's true, thought Kate. She sighed. "Fine. One day."

* * *

_And all I've seen since 18 hours ago_

_Is blue eyes and freckles and your smile_

_in the back of my mind making me feel like_

_I just want to know you better_

_-Everything Has Changed_


	6. Chapter 6

Ryan still couldn't believe that Beckett and Castle let them believe that they were dead. He was going to kill them… once he found out where they were. He was tapping away at his computer; trying to track the owner of the security camera and get a hold of the footage.

"Yo," said Esposito, coming into the pen. "Beckett and Castle used their passports. Guess where they went."

"Indonesia? Antarctica?" guessed Ryan. He didn't particularly care at the moment.

"Paris."

"Paris?"

"Yup. Typical Castle," Esposito said, shaking his head. He tossed the records down on top of Ryan's keyboard.

"So that's what this is about?" Ryan said angrily. "They went to all that trouble so they could go honeymooning?" He slammed his finger on the escape key.

Esposito was shocked at his partner's behavior. "What's your problem, bro? I thought you'd be happy that they're okay."

Ryan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Doesn't it bother you that they wouldn't tell us what they were doing? Ever since Castle and Beckett started sleeping together, it hasn't been the same. It's like they're in a private club."

"Whoa," Espo said, putting his hands up. "Jealous, much?"

"I'm not jealous," Ryan griped. "I just wish they had told us so we didn't worry. I just hope they're having a good laugh wherever they are."

Esposito's nose twitched. "You don't honestly think this is what this is about, do you? Dude, you know Beckett. And you know Castle too." He pulled up a chair and crossed his legs. "Castle likes going on little sojourns but he wouldn't go to these lengths to get Beckett along. This is something bigger. They wanted everyone to think they're dead because of the person that was watching them."

Ryan pondered this.

Esposito leaned on the desk. "So the question is; who was watching them?"

Ryan turned his monitor towards him. "At first, I thought it could be 3XK at it again; out to get Castle. But there wasn't any evidence that indicated that he was being watched. This is about Beckett. Who do we know that would want to keep her under close watch?"

_Bracken?_ Esposito mouthed.

He nodded. "I got the video footage but I can't trace the feed." Ryan burned the last month's worth of film onto a disk and handed it to Espo. "Maybe there's something that can give us a clue as to what happened."

* * *

Bracken stood at the window of his hotel suite; looking across the street where a group of homeless men were huddled around a small fire. It was still drizzling out and every time they got the flame going, it would immediately be put out. He felt sorry for them; it was pretty chilly and some of them were still wearing shorts.

He indulged in a celebratory scotch on the rocks for taking down Kate Beckett and toasted to an empty room. That was the trouble with getting mixed up with the mob; there was no one to call and party with when your #1 enemy is killed. He chuckled to himself; imagining a RIP Detective Beckett party hosted by yours truly.

Of course, his PR agent would schedule him to make an appearance at her funeral laden with flowers and a solemn face. He would make a speech about what a great cop she was and tell an anecdote about bravery and honor and all.

Little would anyone know that he was the reason she was dead. Bracken wondered how she died; if one of the mobsters got a hold of her; put a bullet through her head or knifed her. He hoped it was the former; so it was quick and easy. He didn't want her to suffer; she had her heart in the right place, but he also couldn't risk her being around any longer. She was just too much of a gamble.

He couldn't believe how stupid he had been a year ago; believing that Beckett had somehow gotten her hands on the bank transactions that could pin him to all the police murders. There was no way she could have; he had made sure of that. Yet, he played her cards; doing as he was told just in case she did happen to have the files. Then, a month ago, an anonymous source from the NYPD 12th informed him of the explosion at 86 Markwell that destroyed the last document. The source had been on cleanup and knew that the file was completely obliterated in the blast. After that, he was home free; no longer a prisoner to Beckett's game. He bided out his time; waiting for the right minute to strike. When he got wind that she was pregnant, he knew that it was time.

"Senator Bracken?" his assistant said, sticking her head in the room. "It's time for your meeting."

Bracken nodded and rinsed out his glass. The party was over and it time to get down to business.

* * *

Castle felt like he was falling in love with Kate all over again. Since they had known each other for four years before getting together, it was like starting on the 100th date. They already knew a lot about each other, so they could skip over that part. Castle enjoyed it when he found something new about her; something that no one else knows. Like her mom's murder board that she still hasn't taken down from her apartment, her secret stash of vintage Vogue issues under her bed; the fact that she's read Fifty Shades of Grey three times and counting.

Now, they were starting on their first date; getting to know each other again for the first time. Both had changed over the last eight months. They had both grown up a little; having moved past the honeymoon stage of their relationship. Before, it was like being teenagers in love; carefree and fun. After finding out about the pregnancy, they had buckled down and gotten serious about each other.

Castle was noticing the little things about Kate that he hadn't been paying attention to lately; the things that he loved about her. The way her hair frames her face perfectly without her trying; when the light shifts and her eyes turn from brown to green; the little bump on the left side of her face an inch from her neck. And the internal things: her low, echoey voice that's like a low growl, her facial expressions that speak louder than words, and her avid attention to every detail around her. As he studied her, he couldn't imagine why he ever had doubts about her. She was perfect in every way, even if she couldn't see that. She had the brains that he always looked for in a woman; serious but with the capability to be playful and fun when appropriate. Not to mention, she was stunningly gorgeous.

He could tell that she was still distracted even though she had agreed to the day off. He didn't blame her; she was nervous about the baby. She did a good job at hiding how truly scared she was, but he knew better. She kept spacing off; looking at the ground without blinking for long periods of time to take a second to think.

They were walking across a stone bridge; completely alone because of the bipolar weather. One minute, the sky would clear and the town would be rewarded with a few moments of warm air. Then, in the blink of an eye, it would start pouring again.

In Castle's left hand, was a black umbrella he had attained from the hotel lobby. He held Kate's hand with the other. There was a specific way they always held hands; never with their fingers interlocked, palm to palm.

She stopped suddenly, staring at the ground.

He could see her long dark lashes peeking over the frames of her wayfarers and gave her a minute. "Hey," he said, breaking her train of thought. "Are you okay?"

The corner of her mouth twitched and she looked up at him. "Fine."

Castle squeezed her hand and pulled her closer. "Worried about the baby?"

She nodded and pushed her hair away from her chin. "Yeah."

A ferry passed under the bridge, blowing its horn and scattering a flock of geese.

Kate leaned up against the stone wall, facing him. "I just want to be a good mom," she muttered, resting her elbows on the edge.

Castle moved in front of her, putting both hands on either side of her and crowding her against the low wall. "You will. I promise."

She searched his eyes then looked away with a sigh. She didn't like this one way communicating that they had going; her talking and him listening but never changing roles. "How can you promise that?"

"Because I know you," he said immediately. He leaned closer to her, setting the umbrella on the ground so both of his hands were free. "You're good at everything you set your mind to."

She chewed the corner of her mouth and watched a paper boy zip by on a bike.

Castle put a hand under her chin and made her look at him. "Remember when we babysat Owen around Thanksgiving and you were convinced you couldn't change a diaper? You practiced and practiced until you could do it with both hands tied and blindfolded."

Kate licked her chapped lips as he put one hand on the small of her back. He moved to kiss her but she turned her head to the side. "Tell me what's bothering you."

He recoiled, retreating slightly.

"Please," she said, already feeling like he was slipping into darkness.

Castle put both hands back on the wall to steady himself. "I've missed you. That's all."

She stared at him. "I've been right here."

"That's not what I mean and you know it," he said gently.

Her brow creased and she tilted her head.

"It hasn't been the same… us, I mean," Castle explained. "What happened to us? We don't have any fun. I used to get so nervous when I was around you. But now I can't look at you because I miss that feeling and it reminds me that everything's changed." He paused.

"I know what you mean," Kate said. She pushed her back into the edge of the wall and the rock dug into her spine.

"Having a baby should change us but not like this," he said, "it should magnify us; bring us closer but I think it's driving a wedge between us. You still want to do things on your own and I get that but we should be a team in this. You don't have to go at it alone; you don't have to be scared all the time. You get scared and you run and hide; it's who you are and I accept that."

"You haven't exactly been there for me lately, Rick," she said. "You've been avoiding me and it's hard for me to be around you when you're like that. You're here but you're not _here_. And then I get glimpses of the old you and it reminds me why I love you so much. But glimpses just aren't enough."

He nodded. He knew that he'd been standing at arm's length from her at all times-a safe distance- because he couldn't say hello and risk another goodbye. It hurt too much every time it happened and he couldn't take it every day.

She took his hand and put it over her stomach. "When we have this baby, you need to be there."

"I will," he said.

"Like you've been here these past few months? Rick, that's not enough," she said. "You need to be there even more than before. You can't leave me out to dry. I need you."

"I need you too," he responded. He thought about the long nights that he spent on his side of the bed, missing her. Those were the nights that he snuck off to his study to write about Jameson and Nikki just so he could feel intimate with someone. He was having an affair with his fictitious characters and he was tired of it.

The sky turned black and a large drop fell onto his shoulder. Thunder shook the ground as it started to bucket but he didn't reach for the umbrella; letting the warm water soak into them.

Her eyes locked on his as he said the six letter word that meant so much to her. He was a writer-an artist of words-but he couldn't fill a book with paragraphs upon paragraphs of words that meant more than "Always".

* * *

_Come back and tell me why_

_I'm feeling like I've missed you all this time_

_And meet me there tonight_

_And let me know that it's not all in my mind..._

_... And all I know is pouring rain_

_And everything has changed._


	7. Chapter 7

It dawned on Bracken as he the room was dismissed for break. How could he be sure that Beckett was dead? He couldn't go by the word of Black, the anonymous source whom he had never met before. He decided to make a call to his contact at the 12th.

Unlike Black, his NYPD contact left a number for him. He was a useful little mole; always ready with information on Beckett and never bothering for a payoff.

"I was expecting your call," said the contact when he answered his phone. "Did you see the papers?"

Bracken picked up the New York Times. Under the fold, was the headline: **Beloved mystery writer and NYPD detective killed in explosion**. "I'm looking at it now. But as you know, you can't always trust the press."

"Good thing," laughed the contact. "Because I have news regarding Beckett."

Bracken looked around to make sure that no one was listening in. "And?"

"She's alive," said the contact. "The PD wants to keep it hush because there's a reason behind the bombing. They think that someone was after her."

Bracken grinned to himself and folded up the paper again. "Well they got that right." He wasn't the least bit surprised. Beckett was too smart to be killed off that easily and his men never did something so public as a bombing. They usual kept their kills quiet and made them look like a coincidence. "So where is she?"

"That's what her team is trying to figure out. Her partners are tracing the feed from that camera you had placed across the street. They got the footage but not the source."

"And they won't, will they?" Bracken hinted.

"If they do," said the contact, "the information will disappear."

Bracken nodded, "Good. I'll leave your money at the usual place." He hung up. Beckett couldn't hide for long. He knew that her due date was approaching and she would need a hospital. When she did, his men can find her and finish off the job. He was almost glad that she was still alive. Previously, he wanted to wait until her child was born before ordering the hit. He was determined, but he could show some sympathy. After all, he owed her one.

* * *

Castle had a three step plan for repairing his relationship with Beckett.

Apologize for the past

Find joy in the present

Plan the future

Step one had worked and he was on to step two which would be the fun part.

They stepped off the bridge, hand in hand, as the rain poured down around them. The umbrella kept them relatively dry; the water bouncing off of the fabric and sliding off.

As the clouds past, they walked into a wide plaza, surrounded by small shops. Street vendors had stalls set up here in there; selling food and drinks. It was like New York but with prettier architecture and everyone was a hell of a lot nicer.

In middle of the plaza was a round fountain that nearly overflowed from the excess rain. At the center of the fountain, rose a tower like a wedding cake with three tiers before ending with a statue of Aphrodite, the goddess of love.

Baby ducks floated along in the water above an impressive collection of pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters.

An old man with an acoustic guitar sat at the edge of the fountain, strumming a tune in three-four time; almost a waltz. He sang softly a French ballad. His voice was low and sweet, slurring at the right time, dipping gracefully into a crescendo and then doing an about face to an E sharp.

Castle stopped a few feet from the man and looked around. They were alone; the vendors and tourists having taken cover from the rain. He set his umbrella down and put a euro in the performer's open case.

The man nodded gratefully at him, continuing to strum.

Kate stood awkwardly in the middle of the plaza, her arms folded.

Castle sauntered up to her and bowed. He held out his hand. "Madame Beckett, may I have this dance?"

She couldn't help the grin that spread across her face. "Oui, Monsieur Castle," Kate said in a perfect accent. She placed took his hand and placed the other on his shoulder.

Castle held her close; as close as he could without putting pressure on her abdomen. She let him lead, and he twirled her around the empty plaza.

Kate threw her head back and laughed as Castle dipped her. It was like before all the complications; fun and exciting and silly.

As he brought her back up, he saw the happiness back in her expression; all the lines of worry had been erased.

And seeing her smile, made him smile too. That's all he really wanted, was to make her happy.

As they turned, he could feel his son move inside her.

Her grin briefly faltered, her gaze lowering from his. The kick was like a reminder of why they were really here.

"Castle," she mumbled.

He shook his head, wanting her to stay in the moment.

"Castle," she said, more firmly this time. "We… if we're going to stay here, we need to plan ahead. I don't want this baby to come and have us be unprepared."

He dropped her hands and stepped away.

She frowned and looked at the ground. "He probably knows by now. He's smart. He's going to come for us." She said, meaning Bracken.

Castle looked over her shoulder at a man who was walking briskly towards them. He had silver hair and brilliant blue eyes that he could see from where he was standing. Immediately, he knew who it was.

Kate turned to see where he was looking. "Who is that?"

Castle realized that he had a lot to explain. He had never fully told Kate the truth about her dad. The only thing she knew, were the blanks she filled in herself.

The man was a few feet from them now; his face determined.

They looked at each other, the man looking slightly sheepish for interrupting.

"How did you find us?" asked Castle. He knew it was only a matter of time before this occurred but he wasn't ready for the confrontation to happen so soon.

Jackson Hunt put his hands in his pockets. "It's hard to just disappear, son."

Castle flinched when Hunt called him "son." Just because he had Jackson's blood in him doesn't make him his dad.

Castle stepped in front of Beckett, shielding her from view. "What do you want?" he said coldly. The last time he had seen Hunt was in the same city, but they were rescuing Alexis. Hunt only brought trouble to his family and Castle didn't need any more of that.

"I want to help. I understand you have a problem with Senator William Bracken," Hunt said formally. Right now, he only saw Rick as a potential business partner, not his son.

"What's he to you?" asked Beckett, stepping around Castle.

Hunt nodded to her. "My target."

Beckett gave a questioning look to Castle.

"He's a spy," Castle said plainly, never taking his eyes from Hunt.

Beckett stuck her lower lip out and nodded, just going with the flow. So Castle's dad is a spy. She's heard weirder when it came to absent fathers. "Alright."

The performer stopped playing and packed up his instrument. He tipped his hat to them.

"Why's he your target?" Castle asked, putting a protective arm around Beckett.

Hunt looked around. "Not here. It's too public."

Since the rain had stopped, the tourists were slowly trickling out of shops and stopping in the plaza.

Castle nodded and bent to pick up the umbrella. He led them back to the bridge.

Kate followed a safe distance behind; feeling like an outsider now that Castle's father had shown up. She wondered why Castle had never told her before about his dad, but then she realized that she never really asked. And Castle being who he is, wouldn't bring it up unless she did.

Hunt looked relax; his hands in his pockets, walking slowly across the bridge. He leaned over the wall and squinted into the choppy water below.

Castle stood next to him; facing the opposite direction.

Hunt sighed. "Bracken has been on a hit list for quite some time now. More people know about him than you think."

"How?" Castle asked. He picked at the moss growing in the crack of the stone.

Beckett stood on the other side of the bridge, her feet crossed and sitting on the wall.

Castle cast a wary look in her direction.

"Those kinds of things don't say quiet for long," Hunt explained. "People talk, word gets around," he said vaguely. "He's too much of a complication to have around any longer. We think it's becoming a matter of national security. People like you flee the country just to escape him and he follows. There's no hiding from him. You either face him, or take him out."

"So what do you suggest?" asked Beckett, walking towards them.

Hunt gripped the wall and spit into the water. It arched into the air before falling. "We take him down with something small; something we know we can nail him on and it will unravel from there."

"We don't kill him?" Castle said, slightly disappointed.

"If we did, his men would just keep coming," Beckett said, understanding where Hunt was coming from.

Hunt nodded. "Exactly. No, it's better if we just take him out of power and the only way to do that is to send him to prison."

Beckett was disappointed. She dreamed of putting a bullet through Bracken's skull but what would that accomplish? He would still look like the hero that stands up for the little guy and she'd look like the crazy girl obsessed with her mom's death.

"You know how some people get put on trial for one thing then things are looked into and suddenly they're being tried for a billion other slip-ups," said Hunt. "That's what I'm looking for. It has to be something that would cause his past to be looked into."

"Like spying on someone?" Castle added.

Hunt's lower lip jutted out as he looked away to consider it. "Maybe. How explicit is the footage?"

Castle scratched his neck. "Um… well there was this one time… a few weeks ago…"

"Very," Kate interjected.

Hunt grinned. "Good."

* * *

Hunt used the hotel phone to make a call to his CIA contact in the city.

"Castle, I don't think I can travel again," said Kate. For all she knew, she could have a son by morning. She grimaced as she thought about it. Even though she had gotten plenty baby-care experience watching Owen Ryan, she still wasn't quite ready to be a full-time mom.

Castle put his arm around her shoulders. "I know," he said, watching Jackson pace the room. The landline is an old fashioned one with a corkscrew cable protruding from the base and it keeps him from moving past the radius of the phone.

Beckett sat down with a sigh on the window seat and pressed her temple to the cold glass. "Do you think he knows? Bracken, I mean. That we're alive."

He tossed up one of the lacy pillows and caught it again. "I wouldn't put it past him. The ME will find out that the bodies aren't ours so it's only a matter of time before…" He trailed off.

"Before he comes for me," she finished.

Castle nodded. "I don't think there's any point in hiding anymore; we can get you to a hospital and we can have the baby. Hunt will make sure we're safe."

Kate shut her eyes. She had hoped to resolve this whole ordeal before the birth but that obviously wasn't going to happen. She couldn't bear to think about having her baby for such a short time before he's torn away because of this. "For how long?"

Hunt put the phone back on its base. "Not long, my dear," he said. "Everything's in order; I've sent one of my men to check into that camera you mentioned."

Beckett shook her head. "It's not going to be that easy; he's smarter than that."

Castle nodded in agreement.

Hunt fingered the thick canvas curtains hanging next to the window seat. "We won't necessarily catch Bracken but we'll catch one of his accomplices. With the right amount of pressure, we can find his ties." He batted at the fringe of the gold rope.

Castle blinked. "What kind of pressure?"

"Money," Hunt said plainly. "And if that doesn't work, a knife is just as effective."

Castle flinched.

Beckett nudged him. "Don't be such a baby, Castle."

Castle didn't want to be compassionate towards these sons of bitches that were behind this but he couldn't help it. Everyone's life has value and for all he knew, the person responsible for the camera could have a hungry kid at home and was looking for anything to help put food on the table. Bracken could have easily given him security and enough cash to feed half of Africa.

"I want my team in on this," Beckett added quickly.

Hunt shook his head. "No way. Uh-uh, nope. We're not letting some grade B cops in on this thing. You have no idea how big this is getting. We're talking about taking down the presidential candidate."

"They can handle it," Castle said. "They're good cops and they both have useful connections."

Again, Hunt refused. "They'll only complicate it further. I don't want anyone that's connected to you on this or Bracken will find out what we're up to."

Beckett gritted her teeth. "I want. My boys. In."

Hunt looked to his son to see if she was joking.

Castle shrugged.

"Okay, fine, girlie. I'll tell my guy to fill them in," Hunt said. He crossed the room and poured himself a bottle of champagne from the complimentary bottle on the nightstand. He took a sip. "But don't come crying if they get thrown off a bridge."

* * *

"Damn," Esposito muttered, reviewing the footage from the spy cam. He sat back and opened a bag of UTZ crab chips. "_Damn_," he repeated.

The video was grainy from the long-range zoom but he could see enough. He had no idea how aggressive Beckett was. It figures she'd be the one on top; Castle's just to nice with her. Espo made a mental note to tease her about it once she got back from wherever the hell she and Castle were.

Just as things were getting good, Ryan snuck up on him and fast-forward the footage to a day later.

"Yo," Esposito said, reaching for the mouse.

Ryan held it out of his reach. "You're disgusting. You really want to watch that?"

"Yes!" Espo said. "Dude, Beckett's a beast."

"I'm sure she is but that's between her and Castle. You're no better than the guy who put that camera there if you choose to watch this," said Ryan. He raised his eyebrows, hoping that his partner would make the right choice.

Esposito frowned. "Fine," he said.

Ryan put the mouse into his hand and sat on the edge of the desk to weigh in on the search. The video was on pause and the still was pretty racy. Even eight months pregnant, Ryan had to admit that Beckett looked great. He shook his head. _Married,_ he reminded himself as he tore his gaze from the screen.

"Detectives," said a voice coming from directly behind them.

They swiveled and came face to face with none other than Jim Beckett.

Ryan scrambled to cover the screen with his body so Mr. Beckett couldn't see what his daughter was doing to her boyfriend when she thought they were alone.

Esposito jumped to his feet. "Mr. Beckett," he said nervously, turning to check that the computer was out of his sight.

Ryan leaned nonchalantly on the monitor and waved.

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" asked Esposito, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Where's my daughter?" Jim asked, not looking to beat around the bush.

Espo looked to his partner for backup. "Um… well we don't know."

Jim crossed his arms and towered over the detective. "Is she okay?"

"Um… well…"

"Son," Jim said impatiently, "Wells are something that Timmy falls down. Spit it out." He had read in the papers that Kate's apartment had blown up and they had recovered two bodies. Having received no notification from the NYPD of her death, it could only mean that the incident was under speculation.

"Paris," Ryan offered.

"Paris?! What the hell is she doing in Paris?" Jim asked incredulously.

"We think they're hiding from someone," said Esposito.

"_They?_ Richard is there with her?"

"Yeah," said Ryan. "They went together."

"Goddammit," Jim muttered. "Does this have to do with my wife's murder?"

Espo nodded. "It might."

"And what are you doing to track her down?"

"Sir, we're homicide detectives, hunting people down in foreign countries isn't exactly our job," Ryan said gently. "Since there _were_ two murders involved, we can look into that case but we aren't authorized to do much past that. We're looking for them as their friends, not as our jobs."

Jim cracked his knuckles absentmindedly. "I'm guessing she's going to stay in Paris to have the baby."

"That's right. It's too dangerous to travel for her," said Ryan. His eyes lit up. "That means they'll need a hospital."

Mr. Beckett snapped his fingers together. "And when they check in, Interpol will know where they are."

Ryan turned to Espo's computer and quickly minimized the screen so he could open Google. "I'll send out an APB for them and get in touch with the PD over there."

Jim clacked his teeth together before saying, "Who's after her now?"

"Senator Bracken," Esposito said solemnly.

He blinked. "As in _the _Senator Bracken? William H. Bracken, the future president?!"

"That's the one."

Jim swore. "I'm going to kill that bastard."

"Good luck with that," said Ryan. "He's untouchable."

Jim shook his head. "We can't let him get away with this. If he gets elected, he won't stop until Katie's out of the way."

"That's why they tried to fake their deaths," Esposito said. "So they could be left alone."

"Can't they just stay in Paris?"

"Bracken will find them there," Ryan said, closing his email. "They needed papers and passports to get over there and once he finds out that they're still alive, he'll send someone over. He's not exactly one to get his hands dirty."

"So we'd need to get him out in the open," said Jim.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Espo held his hand up. "We're talking about killing the future president. It's not that easy. No, we need to take him down with his own medicine; either get the right amount of leverage to blackmail him or expose him for his past crimes."

"Detectives," Gates called from her office. "There's someone here to see you."

The boys looked past Mr. Beckett to find Agent Jordan Shaw approaching.

"Wow," said Esposito to Ryan, "we're just so popular today."

"Hmm," Ryan agreed with a nod.

"Nice to see you, Detectives, Mr. Beckett, I presume?" said Shaw.

Espo, Ryan, and Jim immediately straightened up when she came near. She had that power within her over men; to make them respect her. She was the shortest of the three others but she seemed taller somehow.

Esposito shook her hand. "What are you doing here?"

Ryan shot him a '_be nice'_ look.

"Some of my people owe the Castle family a favor," Shaw said, meaning the FBI to the CIA. "I'm here to pay it," she said vaguely.

The boys glanced at each other. "What do you mean?"

Shaw shook it off. "I understand that Senator Bracken's been somewhat of an issue lately."

Jim snorted. "You can say that again." He couldn't believe how many people knew about this guy but he was still in power. It was ridiculous how politics work these days.

"You'll need proof if you want him gone. My people know plenty but that's not enough," said Shaw. "We've been in contact with someone close to Castle and Beckett. He has a plan that he needs us to carry out. Beckett requested that you two, Detectives, be included in it."

They smiled proudly.

"But I'll have you know, this is my case and if you get in the way, you're dead," Shaw said coldly.

"Wait," Jim interrupted. "I want in too."

Shaw rolled her eyes. She didn't have time to deal with cops and cop dads.

"She's my daughter," he said firmly.

"Absolutely not, nope," Shaw shook her head; her ashy blonde hair shifting in front of her cheek. She tucked it behind her ear. "No civilians."

Jim shifted his weight to the other foot. "Agent Shaw, do you have kids?"

She didn't know how this was relevant but she answered to pacify him. "Yes."

"If your daughter was in danger, wouldn't you do anything to help?"

Shaw ground her teeth together. She couldn't argue with a father's instinct to protect his daughter. "Fine. But if you get in the way, I'll strangle you with my bare hands." She turned on her heel and marched out; slapping Esposito in the face with her hair as she flipped it.

The men stared after her.

"Are we supposed to follow her?" Jim whispered.

They all looked at each other before scrambling after her.

* * *

**I know this chapter is far fetched and so full of guest stars but just go with it because it's fun and it works.**


	8. Chapter 8

Hunt put down the phone once again and turned to face the room. "The FBI's sent over a special agent to collect your boys," he told Beckett. "Someone named Shaw. He better be good or this whole thing could blow up in our faces."

"_She _is very good, the best there is," Beckett assured him. She took off her shoes and rubbed her sore heel.

Castle, who was sitting next to her on the couch, moved to sit on the coffee table and pulled her feet up into his lap. He worked his thumbs along the bottoms of her feet. "So what are they going to do?" he inquired.

The rain had let up and the sky had turned a nice shade of sherbet orange-pink. Hunt threw open the double doors leading onto the private balcony. "Just bug his hotel room. He's in DC right now on conference break."

Beckett clenched her toes as Castle hit a sensitive muscle. "We can't use that against him in court," she remarked.

"No," Hunt agreed, lighting a cigar. "But we can always make the information public and it would be enough to take him out of office at least. They can't have a huge scandal wrecking the election."

Beckett was devastated. She had hoped that the feds would arrange some sort of accident for Bracken; a plane crash or a gas leak. But that would be way to public and coincidental to be believable. People were smart and they would figure it out eventually. People like Beckett would find out the truth and she would be no better than those bastards.

"I can tweet about it," Castle offered. "I have, like twenty million followers."

"Good for you, kitten," Beckett said, patting his hand. He's so cute when he tries to be helpful.

"That may actually work, son," Hunt acknowledged.

Castle flinched.

"Attach a sound and video file and we're good to go," Hunt took a long drag. "You could start an all out propaganda." The phone rang and he excused himself to answer it; leaving his cigar on the sill.

"I checked my Twitter feed," Castle mentioned nonchalantly. "Guess what's trending."

"#idon'tcare?"

Castle dug his finger into her sore foot and she squealed, jerking her leg out of his grasp. "No. #where'sWriteRCastle. My adoring fans have been missing my quick and witty daily tweets."

"Castle," she said dryly, examining the bottom of her foot. "For the last three weeks, you've been posting candids of me eating breakfast. I don't think your followers miss seeing me without makeup and scarfing down pancakes like some pancake whore."

Castle laughed. "Pancake whore. That's good. Next time I post a pic of you, I'm going to add #pancakewhore."

"Shit," Beckett mumbled, digging her fingers into the couch cushion.

"What? You tweeted a picture of me drooling in my sleep last week. I think you deserve some Twitter revenge," he said.

"I think my water just broke," she sputtered.

Castle went into full on Pregnancy Buddy mode, taking charge of the situation.

"What's going on?" Hunt asked, entering from the balcony.

"Her water just broke," Castle replied, throwing the few things they had into a bag.

"We can't go _now_," said Hunt, not quite understanding the weight of the impending issue. "We need at least three more hours of not being tracked."

"You know what?" Beckett said, relaxing for a minute. "It might have been a false alarm." Her abdomen twisted and she gasped. "Um, nope. Sorry, I was wrong."

"Okay, okay," said Castle, taking her arm and helping her to her feet. "We're going to the hospital."

Not sure how to be helpful, Hunt took the bag from Castle and led them downstairs where he instructed the doorman to get them a cab.

A black car pulled onto the curb just as Castle and Beckett got through the revolving doors. Beckett was nearly doubled over and her face was contorted in pain. Castle supported her back and urged her to keep moving.

"The nearest hospital," he barked to the slightly alarmed driver.

The driver veered onto the busy road and floored it. That was the nice thing about Paris; you could go full speed down the street in rush hour and only come across a few other cars.

Beckett squeezed her eyes shut as another round of contractions hit. She muttered obscenities in French just because she could. "I thought childbirth was supposed to be beautiful," she said between breaths. "Why the hell does it hurt so much?!"

Castle pondered this. "It's actually explained in the book of Genesis; the Old Testament. It was one of the repercussions of Eve eating the forbidden fruit," he said knowledgably. "_To the woman he said: "I will intensify the pangs of your childbearing; in pain shall you bring forth children-"_

"Castle?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"Okay."

Beckett gritted her teeth and stuck it out through another contraction. They were getting stronger and more frequent now and she wondered aloud if it was possible to give birth while unconscious.

"Trust me, sweetheart," the driver said over his shoulder. "Your husband there is going to pass out before you do."

"He's right," Castle agreed, pushing her hair back from her face.

"Here you are," said the driver, coming to a stop in front of the hospital doors. "Good luck," he said more to Castle than Beckett.

Castle got out and opened Kate's door for her. It was only then that he realized that Hunt wasn't with them. He decided to worry about his dad later and focus on the problem at hand; getting Kate inside.

She hobbled down the wide sidewalk separating the street from the doors (who designed that?!). Castle kept a protective arm around her and cheered her on.

Thankfully, two nurses rushed out with a wheelchair and a stack of insurance papers Castle had to sign.

He haphazardly scribbled his name on every blank he came across and shoved the clipboard back at the nurse as they wheeled Kate down the ward.

"Time between contractions?" asked the nurse.

"7 minutes," Castle informed them. "Lasting around 40-60 seconds each."

"That's too close together for normal," said the nurse, checking her heart rate.

Beckett was glad that Castle was there because she had no clue what was going on except that it hurt like shit.

The nurse clucked and shook her head. "You're in for a long night, sweetheart."

As if she wasn't freaked out enough.

* * *

Shaw had a small team of techies and some muscle positioned outside the hotel room. None of them knew nor asked whose hotel room they were bugging; it was just standard protocol: don't ask, don't tell.

Ryan, Esposito, and Jim stood by as the computer geeks set up expensive looking equipment.

Their job was to get in, plant the bugs and a few cameras, and get out. It was a simple job, yet so much could go wrong.

The muscle cast them wary looks and the boys merely smiled back; typical beef between feds and cops.

One of the techs handed them all packets of small silver disks. Ryan was put in charge of the microscopic cameras. The technology was impressive; miniscule and undetectable unless you knew what to look for.

Shaw fixed them with button cams so she could weigh in on the mission from a safe distance. She pressed the Bluetooth into her own ear and checked the monitors. "All system's go," she said to another fed. "Remember," she said to Ryan. "Don't let anyone see you. The doormen were instructed to stand down, but after that, you're fair game."

Jim fidgeted and eyed everyone's holstered guns. They made him nervous. Every single person in this van was all intense and James Bond-y and he was a regular civilian. "What happens if he walks in on us?"

Shaw shrugged. "That's your problem. Shoot him; something. I don't really care. Just don't blow this." She loaded a spare piece and handed it to Mr. Beckett.

"Whoa," Jim said, holding his hands up. "I don't want that."

She rolled her eyes and tucked it in the band of his jeans. "You're nothing like your daughter, Mr. Beckett."

Jim frowned.

To break the tension, Esposito cracked a joke. "Just think, Mr. B, you could be a grandpa right now."

"That makes me feel so young," Jim muttered, pulling his flannel shirt to cover the gun.

"All right people," Shaw addressed the team. "Let's move. I want a nice clean job." She nodded to the boys and they filed out of the van.

Esposito went first; looking up and down the street and signaled the others that it was clear. They strode into the Marriot; receiving questioning looks from the concierge, but were left alone.

Jim brought up the rear, head shifting left and right as naturally as possible so as not to draw attention. He didn't know how Kate did this sort of thing on a daily basis. It was positively nerve-wracking.

Esposito and Ryan made small talk so they wouldn't look suspicious. Ryan punched the up button next to the shiny glass elevator on the other side of the prestigious lobby.

According to Shaw, Bracken and his men were staying on the 11th floor in room 771K. It was kind of ironic because if you turn "771K" upside-down, it spells "kill". Ryan noted this and received glares from the other two.

Coincidentally, the elevator never made a stop between floors to pick up passengers so they had time to talk for a minute.

"So," said Ryan. "Are you looking forward to being a grandpa?" He fixed his gelled hair in the door reflection.

"Who, me?" Jim asked. "Oh, um, I guess so."

"You guess?" Esposito said.

Jim shrugged and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "I suppose I haven't accepted the idea that Katie's all grown up and doesn't need her old man anymore. I'm glad she's with Castle though, he seems to really care about her."

"He does," Ryan said.

Esposito nodded in agreement.

"You wouldn't believe the lengths Castle would go to for her," Ryan claimed. "He would do anything to protect the people he cares about."

The lift stopped and the doors slid open. The sign directly across the hall told them to head right to rooms 770K-800L.

Upon finding the proper room, Ryan slid in the keycard and the door opened with a click. They pushed into the suite and got to work.

The bugs came in sheets like stickers. The backs of the metal disks were adhesive so they could be stuck to undersides of things and on the walls.

Esposito went crazy; finding creative hiding places for his share of listening devices: behind the bed, in a vase, tucked inside a pillowcase.

Ryan meanwhile tapped the landline even though he doubted that Bracken would use it much past calling for room service.

Jim wandered about; absentmindedly sticking the bugs to the backs of the furniture. He took the bag of video cameras from Ryan and placed one on the chandelier, the wall, and the curtain. After being hidden, they were impossible to see even to the trained eye. He wanted to shake the hand of the man who fit that much technology in a package the size of a coconut shaving.

Ryan moved to the window and looked to the street below where the FBI van was stationed. He flashed the OK signal off the face of his watch.

"Yo," Esposito called from the bathroom.

"What've you got?" Ryan said, joining him. The penthouse bathroom was bigger than Ryan's entire apartment and twice as extravagant.

Espo, who had donned leather gloves so as not to leave prints, was rummaging through a collection of toiletries. "Check it," he unscrewed the bottle of travel size shampoo and reached into his jacket. He took out a tiny vial of clear liquid and dumped it into the shampoo. He shook it up.

"What's that?" asked Ryan, taking the empty vial from him.

"Nair hair removal," Espo said plainly.

Ryan's eyes grew wide.

Seeing his partner's shocked expression, he grinned. "Shaw said we shouldn't _kill_ him. She said nothing about revenge."

Espo replaced the bottle where he had found it and went back to bugging.

* * *

Bracken's phone buzzed in his coat pocket. "Yes?" he answered, turning away from the crowd of donors who had approached him. He covered his other ear with his hand to block out the din of the restaurant.

"It's me," Black whispered.

"What is it?" Bracken said impatiently. He thought his arrangement with these shady people was over.

"We found her."

Bracken was intrigued. "Where?"

"She just checked into a hospital in Paris," said Black.

"I'll send someone over," said Bracken. "Is she under police guard?"

"No," Black answered. "I'll expect a large payment for the trouble I'm going to."

Bracken sighed. It was always about the money with him. "Fine. How much?"

"I want $40,000 transferred directly to my account," Black demanded.

Bracken wondered when his contact had become so confident. He usually didn't push his luck when it came to making bank. Since he needed this job done once and for all, he agreed, scribbling down the account. "I'm going back to my hotel now; you'll have the money as soon as I can get an order made out."

Black smiled. "She'll be gone by morning."

* * *

"She'll be gone by morning," Hunt said, hanging up the payphone. It had begun to drizzle again so he pulled the hood of his windbreaker up over his head before stepping out of the booth.

He ducked into the closest café and ordered a black coffee and croissant. Lighting another cigar-his third today- he called Rick. The phone rang four times before his son finally picked up.

"Hello?"

"It's me," Hunt said, taking a long puff. "How's it going over there?"

Castle hesitated. "Um… as good as it can be considering. Where did you go?"

"I had some business to take care of," Hunt replied, smiling at the waitress that brought him his drink. He tapped the embers onto the white tablecloth and watched them glow then simmer out. He ran his hand through the ash; leaving a dark streak. "You haven't had any trouble, have you?"

"…No."

"Good," said Hunt, taking a bite of the warm pastry. It crunched but then concaved under the pressure of his jaw to light fluffy bread that spilled out a cloud of steam. "Interpol knows where you are now so it's only a matter of time."

Someone shouted something and Castle covered the phone to answer. "I have to go."

"Wait, son. I just spoke to Bracken-"

"YOU DID WHAT?!"

"Calm down, you'll scare Kate," Hunt said calmly. "I've been in contact him for a while; playing one of his men. He's going to send someone over to the hospital. I'll be there with my team to intercept him and we'll get information out of his hitman. Hopefully we can break him and convince him to testify. Oh, and he's agreed to transfer $40,000 to one of my accounts so we have that as evidence also."

"Did you hear anything from Shaw?"

"No," as he said this, his phone beeped, indicating another call. "I have to go, give Kate my best."

"Wait-"

He switched lines. "Special Agent Shaw," he answered. "Is it done?"

"We've got cameras and mics in his room and a man undercover as a guard," said Shaw. "Beckett's boys are in there now… along with her father," she muttered, slightly embarrassed that she was involving so many emotionally attached men on her case.

"Excellent," Hunt said, taking another gulp of coffee. Outside, it began to bucket; the rain pelting the café window at a 1/8 staccato. "Tell him he's about to become a grandpa."


	9. Chapter 9

Even though the whole ordeal was probably miserable for Kate, Castle couldn't help but feel utter happiness. Not that he was enjoying the fact that she was suffering-quite the opposite-but he realized that being thrown into this conundrum together has brought back their friendship. Before, it was like they were forced to be together and weren't enjoying it whatsoever. Now, even when Beckett was insulting him, it felt like they had gotten back their usual chemistry of constant volleying banter that could only occur between long-time pals.

Castle nearly jumped up and down in joy the first time she finished one of his sentences and knew exactly what he was thinking as he was thinking it. It was spooky, but it was a positive sign of the future.

Beckett was trying to relax in the private hospital room between her contractions and Castle was desperately attempting to distract her by any means possible.

"Do you want to play I Spy?" he asked as he handed her a glass of water.

She grimaced and dug her fingernails into her palm. "No."

"All right," he sat down in bed-side chair.

Silence.

"Do you want to play 100 Questions?"

Out of curiosity, she asked what 100 Questions was and if it was like 20 Questions.

"No," he replied cheerfully. "I ask you a question about yourself and then you ask me one. It's fun!"

She looked doubtful as she set the glass down.

"It will be like getting to know you all over again," he pleaded, desperately wanting to play.

She anticipated it coming and should have stopped him. He broke out into the famous _King and I_ song.

"Getting to know you," he serenaded, "Getting to know all about you-"

"Castle."

"-Getting to like you-"

"_Castle_."

"Getting to hope you like meee," he belted, throwing his arms wide.

"Castle."

"Beckett. Getting to know you, putting it my way," he took her hand and twirled once under it. "But nicely-"

"CASTLE!"

"Yeah, KBecks? You are precisely my cup of tea," he smiled mischievously and continued to sing.

Beckett gave up; knowing that she would have to wait it out until he had gone through every verse.

"Getting to know you, getting to feel free and easy when I am with you; getting to know what to say," Castle tapped her on the nose with his index finger and danced around her bed like a Von Trapp on steroids. "Haven't you noticed suddenly I'm bright and breezy? Because of all the beautiful and new things I'm learning about you…" he held his hand out for her to finish the phrase.

"Day by day," she said quietly.

He stopped, suddenly turning serious and lowering his voice. "Always," he added.

"Always," she repeated.

He sat back in his chair and crossed his ankle over his knee, folding his hands in his lap. He tilted his head to the side. "I love you, Beckett."

Kate smiled. "I love you too, Castle."

"So," he said, back to his usual joking self, "100 Questions?"

She sighed. "Fine. You go first."

"What's your favorite color?"

"Purple. What's yours?"

"White. Last book you read?"

"Frozen Heat by Richard Castle."

This took him by surprise. Here he thought she had been cheating on him with _What to Expect When You're Expecting_.

"Pet peeve?" she asked since it was still her turn.

"Lying," he responded plainly. "Favorite song?"

"I Want to Break Free by Queen. Coke or Pepsi?"

"Coke…"

They knew almost all of the answers already but it was fun to come across one that surprised the other. Like the fact that it took Kate exactly three times to pass her driving test when she was 16 or Castle's irrational fear of whales.

It was a nice way to pass the time waiting for something to happen and Kate was grateful to have Castle there not only as her all-knowledgeable and experienced Pregnancy Buddy but also as her partner and friend.

Five hours and six glasses of water later, the doctor informed her that her cervix had dilated six centimeters.

"…Okay?" she responded, clueless as to what that meant.

Castle helped her out. "It means you're through early labor."

"Ah," she said.

"Are you going to want epidural?" asked the doctor in a thick French accent.

"Yes," Castle responded.

"No," said Kate.

They glanced at each other.

"No?" Castle said incredulously.

"No," she repeated. "I want it to be natural."

Castle looked from the doctor then to Kate. "I don't think you'll want-"

"No," she said firmly to the doctor who nodded and dismissed himself.

"Kate," Castle said, taking her hand. "You're going to want that medication."

She gave him a pitying look. "Castle, I've been shot in the chest before; I think I can handle it."

He gave her a wary look. "Remember, you can always change your mind."

"I won't," she assured him.

He nodded but would have bet his entire bank account that she would want the epidural later

* * *

Her earpiece crackled to life. "Agent Shaw?" her undercover said. "Bracken's coming back to his hotel room."

"I thought he was at dinner," she hissed, checking the trackers. The NYPD team was still in his room and wasn't even close to getting out. "How close is he?"

"He's coming up the street, look for a black Cadillac SUV."

Shaw swore under her breath and called Detective Ryan. "Get out of there, now."

"We need to finish up," said Ryan.

"No," she commanded. "_Now."_

Ryan covered the phone and whispered to the others. "How do we know which way to go? What if we run into him?"

"Take the south stairwell," she instructed. "It's out of the way but you'll be less likely to get into trouble."

She looked out the tinted windows and saw the Cadillac with the double mini American flags on the hood.

"He's coming," she said, "You need to go."

There was a crash on the other side of the phone and swearing.

"What was that?" she groaned, putting her forehead in her hands.

"Nothing," Ryan said quickly.

"Don't you dare lie to me," Shaw warned.

"We'll fix it, okay? Bye!"

"Ryan!" She pressed her cheek to the back window to see Bracken and his henchmen climbing out of the SUV. Her undercover discretely turned and gave her the signal.

One of the techs turned to her. "What's our next move, boss?"

Good question. "Bracken will take the elevator unless he's on a new exercise regime that we don't know about. They should make it out by the stairs without a problem. Once they're back, we can activate the bugs."

The agent tapped on his wireless and checked the feed. "Boss?" he said tentatively. "There's some interference on our devices. I think it's a scrambler."

Shaw moved to stand behind the agent. The screen showed all of the bugs that were able to be activated and the ones that weren't. The device's number code was shown on the left and on the right, was an activation sign. All of the signs were blinking red. "Do you have the cameras?"

The tech adjusted the feed and six camera angles appeared.

Shaw sighed with relief. "All right, at least we have those." She watched as Ryan, Esposito, and Jim packed up their things; careful to take their plastic bags with them. "What the hell are they doing? They were supposed to be out right now!" she muttered angrily. This is what she got for working with the PD.

She switched lines to contact Bracken's guard. "Can I get a 20 on the target?"

The signal buzzed. "South stairwell. ETA three minutes."

Shit.

"Why's he taking the stairs?!" asked one of the agents, head swiveling to check all of the monitors.

"Maybe he's claustrophobic," Shaw mused. "If I were him and knew that at least a hundred people were out to kill me, I wouldn't get on an elevator that's cables could be cut and made look like an accident."

Everyone nodded in agreement; one of the perks to being the boss: everyone agrees with you.

She called Ryan again. "Where are you?"

"Heading down the south stairwell like you said," Ryan responded, pounding down the metal stairs with Espo and Jim at his heels.

"Turn around," she commanded, "Bracken's headed that way?"

"What are you-" he stopped dead in his tracks as he heard approaching footsteps coming from a level below them. He leaned over the railing and saw three sets of hands moving up the banister. "I gotta go."

Ryan turned to the others. "They're coming," he whispered. Bracken was now turning the corner and soon they would be face to face. It was too late to turn back now. He would surely recognize them as Beckett's partners from the kitchen. "Act natural," he said as if they needed prompting.

Bracken and two guards that resembled Men in Black climbed the stairs in front of them.

They all tensed.

Esposito started up a conversation. "And then my wife says, "If you're going to act like that, go sleep on the couch." Can you believe that?"

Bracken was now a few steps away.

"Son, sometimes you just gotta learn to keep your mouth shut," Jim advised. "It'll only get worse as time goes by."

Ryan grunted in response as Bracken cast them an odd glance, doing a double take.

They all held their breaths.

Bracken gave them a curt nod and moved on.

They nodded coolly back and continued to descend. Since sound traveled through the stairwell, they kept up their banter until they reached the ground floor and were safely out of earshot.

They sighed with relief.

"That was close," said Ryan, leading them briskly through the lobby.

"Too close," Jim and Espo agreed.

As soon as the van door shut, they pulled out of the parking lot.

A tech held out a plastic bin and they peeled off their tracking devices and deposited their extra bugs.

"Any news from Beckett?" Esposito asked, digging the piece out of his ear.

Jim pulled the wire out of his shirt and rolled it up before handing it to the fed. His eyes stayed glued to Agent Shaw.

"She was just admitted to a hospital," Shaw informed them.

Jim couldn't hide his smile. He was about to have a grandson.

Ryan's brow furrowed. "Doesn't Bracken know where she is now?"

Jim took a sharp intake of breath and gripped his seat. "Isn't Interpol protecting them?"

"We have a team stationed in and around the hospital," Shaw assured him. "Don't worry, she's safe."

"For now," he muttered.

Shaw wasn't going to sugar coat it. "Yes, for now. Bracken's sending someone for her as we speak but the team will intercept him and hopefully get him to testify."

"And if he doesn't testify?" asked Jim.

"Then we have those," Shaw gestured towards the video feeds where Bracken and his men were enjoying bourbon on the rocks while filling out paperwork.

The undercover guard gave a knowing glance towards the camera and clenched and unclenched his hand five times; signaling the OK.

"It's not enough to send him to jail, but at least he'll lose all his power and then his money," said Shaw. "As soon as he finishes those papers, he'll have $40,000 transferred to one of the CIA's accounts and it will be proof that he's distributing money. It'll raise questions as to why."

"What do we do now?" asked Ryan.

Shaw raised an eyebrow. "You guys?"

They all nodded.

"Nothing," she said, "We're done here; you've done your jobs." She took out her earpiece and tossed it in the bin. A shrill note emitted from the impact.

"What?" Jim said incredulously. "That's it? What about my daughter?"

Shaw sighed. "Mr. Beckett, we can't have so many people who are personally involved in this mission. It creates complications."

"Damn right," he said angrily. "This is my daughter and my grandson who's in danger, not to mention the father of her child."

"Don't you think I know that?" she griped. "This is complicated enough. Go back to the precinct and we'll let you know when something happens."

"Like they get shot and killed?!" Jim countered.

"Sir-" Ryan warned.

"Mr. Beckett, your daughter has been through much more before. I'm sure she can handle herself. She's a smart and intuitive woman."

Jim looked to the boys to back him up but they remained silent.

The van came to a stop across the street from the twelfth. Rather unceremoniously, he shoved his way outside. If the feds weren't going to do anything more, it was time to take things into his own hands. He heard the detectives talking a bit more to Shaw before following him out.

"Mr. Beckett!" Esposito called from across the street. "Wait up!" he ran out in front of a taxi that barely missed him.

Jim sighed and turned to him.

Ryan jogged up and stood shoulder to shoulder with his partner.

"Boys," he said calmly, folding his arms across his chest. "Have you ever been to Paris?"

* * *

Bracken signed his name on the money order and gave it to his guard to send.

The guard's eyes grew wide as he examined the amount being transferred but out of respect, he didn't question it. It was quite a sum but being in politics, transferring that much money was a regular occurrence in his line of work.

He didn't mind giving up the money; after all, it's not his. No number was as important as his future career.

He fingered the tiny scar on his left cheek and immediately grimaced. He wished he had never gotten involved with the police/mobster deal. It wasn't even all that money behind it and it had brought him so much more trouble that it was worth. Sure, the money helped kickstart his run but he could have gotten the funds elsewhere and wouldn't still be paying the repercussions.

His hand goes to his receding hairline that has largely been a result of stress. He can't wait to finally put this entire thing to rest.

"Sir?" says one of the men, stopping at the trashcan. He reaches down and pulls out two pieces of glass.

Bracken recognizes it immediately as the vase that used to be on the bedside table. "When did that happen?"

The guard shrugs and puts it back in the bin.

_Just the clumsy housekeeping,_ he assures himself. But then he looks to the still rumpled sheets on the bed. If housekeeping had come, wouldn't there be new bedding? He found this curious so he looked around the room for signs of entry. Everything's the way he had left it this morning besides the missing glass. Just in case, I tell the guard to do a sweep for bugs.

The guard unpacks a listening device and attaches one earphone to him and turns in the middle of the room. There's crackling, but since none of the devices are live, it doesn't pick up on them. "Clear," he told Bracken, repacking the device.

He sighed and pulled out his cell phone. "I'm going to make a phone call," he told his men whose names he didn't bother to learn. "Would you gentlemen mind stepping outside?"

The men exchanged knowing looks before saying, "Of course not," and taking up post directly in front of the suite.

"Thank you," he said as they left. Before dialing his man at the 12th, he checked that the door was securely shut.

The phone rang four times before his contact picked up. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" the contact answered.

"What do you have for me?"

"Beckett's team just got back from some sort of mission," said the contact vaguely.

"What does that mean?" asked Bracken.

"I'm not sure, they're not ones to share," the contact whispered; no doubt surrounded by other detectives. "But I think it has to do with the feds."

"What makes you say that?" Bracken gripped the phone closer to his ear.

"When I asked for Ryan, the captain didn't know where he was nor did she seem inclined to find out," said the contact. "Either FBI or CIA or maybe both."

"CIA?" Damn, if the feds are on Beckett's side, there won't be any stopping her. That girl had quite the list of correspondents herself; almost as impressive as his own. "Wait, who's Ryan?"

"One of Beckett's teammates."

He tried to think back to the people he knew were close to Beckett. Ryan didn't ring a bell. "Send me a profile of all the people on her team."

There was a pause as the PD contact attached a file to his text and sent it to him.

He scrolled through the small list. There was Detective Kevin Ryan, Javier Esposito, and Richard Castle. For some reason, he thought that Ryan and Esposito looked familiar somehow; not just from their brief encounter at the precinct last year but from something more recent… he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Do they know where Beckett is?" asked Bracken.

Then, it hit him. He had just seen those detectives moments ago in the south stairwell. _Heading downstairs from his suite._

He hung up and searched the room once more. While running his hand along the runners of the mattress, his fingers found something cold and round that didn't feel like the other bolts attached to the bed. He pried it off with his fingers and held it up to the light to examine. Sure enough, it was a bug.

Those sons of bitches had bugged his hotel room. So how much had he just given up with his last phone conversation?

* * *

**WE NOW INTERRUPT YOUR REGULARLY SCHEUDULED PROGRAM TO BRING YOU THIS EXERPT FROM **_**IS EVERYONE HANGING OUT WITHOUT ME AND OTHER CONCERNS **_**BY MINDY KALING. JUST A FOOD FOR THOUGHT RELATING TO THE CASKETT RELATIONSHIP.**

My parents get along because they are pals. They're not big on analyzing their relationship. What do I mean by pals? It mostly means they want to talk about the same stuff all the time. In my parents' case, it's essentially rose bushes, mulch, and placement of shrubs. They love gardening. They can talk about aphids the way I talk about New York Fashion Week. They can spend an entire day together talking nonstop about rhododendrons and _Men of a Certain Age_, watch Piers Morgan, and then share a vanilla milkshake and go to bed. They're pals. (Note: they are pals, not best friends. My mom's best friend is her sister. A best friend is someone you can talk to ad nauseam about feelings, clothing, and gossip. My dad is completely uninterested in that.)

Not to belabor the Amy Poehler of it all, but I've always really admired her marriage to Will Arnett. I remember at the _Parks and Recreation _premiere four years ago, Amy was looking for her husband toward the end of the night. She stopped by me and a couple other _Office_ writers who had scammed invites to the party.

AMY: Hey guys. Have you seen Arnett? I can't find him.

We didn't know where he was, and she shook her head good-naturedly, like, "That guy," and went on looking for him. I had never heard a woman call her husband by his last name, like she was a player on the same sports team Will was on. You could tell from that small moment that Will and Amy are total pals.

I don't want to hear about the endless struggles to keep sex exciting, or the work it takes to plan a date night. I want to hear that you guys watch every episode of The Bachelorette together in secret shame, or that one got the other hooked on _Breaking Bad _and if either watches it without the other, they're dead meat. I want to see you guys high-five each other like teammates on a recreational softball team you both do for fun. I want to hear about it because I know it's possible and because I want it for myself.

I guess I think happiness can come in a bunch of forms, and maybe a marriage with tons of work makes people feel happy. But part of me still thinks… is it really so hard to make it work? What happened to being pals? I'm not complaining about Romance Being Dead-I've just described a happy marriage as based on talking about plants and a canceled Ray Romano show and drinking milkshakes: not exactly rose petals and gazing into each other's eyes at the top of the Empire State Building or whatever. I'm pretty sure my parents have gazed into each other's eyes maybe once, and that was so my mom could put eye-drops in my dad's eyes.

_-Kaling, 185-186_


	10. Chapter 10

Hunt checked that all of his men were in place. There was an agent stationed just outside the hospital, one disguised as a nurse right outside Kate's room, a window-washer guarding the window. All of them were armed and ready. He was perfectly confident that should someone come for Beckett, those three would spot him before he did any damage.

Hunt himself was patrolling the roof even though he was doubtful that anyone would come by helicopter. He paced the deserted roof, smoking a cigar, and watching the horizon. It had been twenty hours since he had first arrived at the hospital and Kate was well into labor. If someone were to attack, now would be the ideal time.

* * *

He held Kate's hand through another contraction. "Breathe," he instructed for the millionth time. "Breathe, breathe-"

"Castle, stop telling me to breathe! I know how to fucking breathe!" she snapped.

One of the nurses gave him a sympathetic shrug.

Castle made himself useful by wiping the sweat from her forehead. He checked his watch. "About ten more seconds, Beckett. You're doing great."

Her face contorted and she nearly crushed his hand.

He grimaced and tried not to pull his hand back. "Three, two, one."

She let out a breath as the pain subsided for the time being.

The nurse checked her again. "Eight centimeters, sweetie."

"That's small," she noted, taking a glass of water from Castle.

The nurse nodded solemnly. "It's still going to be a while." She nodded to Castle and left.

Castle put her hair back in a braid for her.

"Thank you," she said, relieved to have some extra air flowing to her neck and ears.

"Always," he remarked, twisting the elastic around her sweaty hair. "Want that epidural yet?"

She gritted her teeth. "Like hell. My mom pushed me out naturally and look how great I turned out!" she joked before beginning to dry-heave.

Castle grabbed the plastic basin before she threw up. He rubbed her back while she emptied the few contents of her stomach once again.

"Man," said Beckett, wiping the corners of her mouth. "This sucks. I never want to go through this again."

Castle held the bin at arms length as he set it on the window sill. "It's easier the second time around. Wait," he said. "How many kids do you want exactly?"

She froze in the middle of bringing the water to her lips. She tilted her head. "How many do you want?"

"You first."

"No you."

"On the count of three." Castle held up three fingers, folded one down, then another.

"Two," she said.

"Eight."

"EIGHT?!"

He grinned. "Calm down, I'm just kidding."

She let out a sigh of relief.

"Seven's enough for me. It's a magical number."

She slapped him on the shoulder.

Castle laughed. "Two. Two is a nice number."

Kate nodded. "Would you want another boy?"

"I'd like to have a girl," he admitted. "I hope she'd look like you though."

"No you don't," said Kate.

"Why not?"

"Because all the boys will be chasing after her the minute she hits 13," she grinned.

He considered it. "Yeah, you're right. One boy that looks like you and one girl that looks like me."

"Coming right up."

* * *

Ryan and Esposito abused the use of their badges to cut in line at airport security. Jim hurried after them; apologizing to all of the people the boys shoved aside. With three boarding passes for Paris, France tucked in their pockets and no bags, it wasn't long before they were safely on American Airlines.

Jim took the window seat and Ryan and Esposito crammed in next to him; Espo complaining about taking the middle.

Ryan shut off his phone. "You got the address?" he asked Jim.

Jim patted the piece of paper in his breastpocket.

"So," said Esposito, reclining his seat. "What exactly is the plan once we get there?"

"We get there, we find my daughter, and we bring them back," Jim said. "Simple."

"Nothing's ever that simple, bro," said Espo.

"The FBI will take care of it," Jim pointed out. "They said they would."

Ryan made Esposito sit up again since they were taking off. "They can't promise anything; it isn't like they can send someone to shoot down the future president and no one's going to notice. It'll make everyone all crazy paranoid."

"I wish I could have the pleasure of pulling that trigger," Jim mutters.

"You sound like Kate," Ryan remarks. "That's what she wants most."

"Is it?"

Esposito nods. "It's her dream."

"Funny. She used to dream about rainbows and puppies."

Silence.

"Don't tell her I said that."

* * *

Bracken stared at his phone, willing it to ring and tell him that Beckett's dead. He hasn't slept for days; hasn't eaten. This thing will be the death of him if it isn't resolved soon.

He waited for a fed to burst through the door and arrest him for the call he made ordering the hit. He almost wished they would just come for him now and put his mind at ease. Waiting was like torture.

He desperately wanted some kind of number he could call to check up on the hit. He calmed down by telling himself it may already be over and he just didn't know it yet.

* * *

Agent Shaw stared at the screen; waiting for her target to do something –anything- that might give him away. It was like watching the most boring episode of Big Brother without the commentary. Bracken was just sitting at the table next to the window with his phone sitting a few feet away. He kept looking at it nervously.

And he has a right to be nervous; her boys have him surrounded at every angle. He's basically awaiting his death or arrest; whichever comes first.

Her cell phone rang and she told another agent to take over.

"Shaw," she answered.

"It's me," said Hunt.

"How is it over there?"

"No sign of trouble yet," Hunt whispered. "I think they're waiting for the baby to come to move in."

"Is he sending more than one?"

"I checked with my sources and he said that there were two flights coming in from he US. The first has three males, Caucasian, they didn't have any bags so they looked kind of suspicious. There was also another guy, not affiliated with him on the same flight, black male, 6'1". I have someone looking into their backgrounds and if we can, Interpol will stop them at the gate."

"I doubt he'd risk sending over more than one guy," said Shaw. "That complicates things."

"Well, I'd like to make absolutely sure," Hunt said. He ducks under the roof as a flock of geese fly by. He spoke into his radio. "Agent Bane, tell our guy on the roof to move positions; I can see him."

His transmitter crackled. "Who?"

Hunt brought the mic up to his mouth. "The one on the building on the north side."

"We don't have any agents on the roof."

Hunt swears and speaks into the phone. "Agent Shaw? We've been compromised, I need to go."

* * *

"I don't know, Castle," Kate said, pulling at the corners of the sheet. "I don't like the idea of a public school…" She gritted her teeth as another wave of pain surged through her. When it was over, she continued to conversation as normal. "There's all kinds of messes you can get into."

"Same with private schools," Castle pointed out, "Only there, they're smarter at not getting caught."

"You would know," she mused. "Why are we talking about this anyways? Don't you think I should push this thing out first?"

He rested his chin on the bedrail. "We ran out of things to talk about a long time ago, Becks."

"Don't call me Becks," she griped, holding her breath through another contraction. They're coming more often now and lasting for minutes at a time.

"Breathe," Castle reminded her.

She exhaled as the pain passed. "Castle, this sucks."

"I know, sweetie."

"This is so not fair," she pouted, "why do women have to do all the work? I think men definitely got the long straw."

Castle shrugged. "Yeah. We're just awesome that way. Being a guy is pretty amazeballs." He scootsed himself to her feet and ducks his head. "Ew- I mean, that's great," he said quickly. "I think you're dilated another centimeter."

"Fabulous," she muttered.

He moved back from the line of fire. "Just think about how great this'll be when it's all over. We can go to Starbucks and to the firing range and you can start running again…"

"Except I won't because we need to take care of the baby," she pointed out. "It's not over after today."

Just then, there was a loud bang and the glass window to their left shattered.

Castle dove in front of her as a bullet grazes his arm. He cries out.

One of Hunt's agents flew in through the broken window and covered them. Another agent from the hall came to their aide, wheeling the bed out from the room.

Castle rushed after them, holding his heavily bleeding arm.

"Castle, are you okay?" Beckett asked.

"Fine," he gasped, "Get out of here," he said to the agent. "Get her to safety, I'm going to hold them off."

The agent, a short Asian female, rolls her into the elevator and hits the button for the basement floor. "I'm so sorry this happened," she said sympathetically, seeing Beckett's state. "This has to be the worst time."

Beckett looks at the agent in the reflection of the elevator doors. "Yeah it kind of blows-"

The agent reaches in her coat and draws her gun, pointing it at her.

"Hey!" Beckett yells, her leg flying out and kicking the gun from the woman's hand.

She dove for her and Beckett punched her in the jaw; scratching her eyes with her nails. The woman screamed and recoiled and Beckett took that opportunity to punch her in the throat.

The agent collapsed on the ground.

Even when she's about to give birth, Beckett still kicks ass.

The gun landed on her bed and she grabbed it, pointing it at the agent who's gasping for breath. "You work for Bracken?"

The woman coughed, clasping her bruised neck.

"Tell me who sent you!" Beckett yells, clicking a bullet into its chamber. She looks up at the security camera in the corner of the elevator.

The agent tries to get to her feet; blood oozing from her nose and forehead. For a trained assassin, she was disarmed pretty quickly.

Beckett sent a warning shot to the agent's foot to tell her she wasn't messing around.

"I don't know!" the agent shouted.

Beckett shot another just over the woman's head. "You know, I'm pretty damn unpredictable right now, given the fact that I'm about to give birth to my first son and the next bullet can easily go straight through you if I get scrambled enough so don't think I won't."

"But I'm telling you, I don't know," the woman pleaded. "I just get the call and the target and I don't ask questions!"

Beckett, feeling another contraction coming, aimed at her arm.

"Wait!" the agent put her hands up. "It's someone from the United States, that's all I know!"

Beckett gritted her teeth. "Give me your phone," she commanded. If Bracken had called this person, they could trace the call back to him.

"I don't have one!" Catching her off guard, the woman grabbed for the gun and Beckett had no choice but to shoot her.

The bullet went through the woman's shoulder and she fell to the floor once again.

The elevator doors opened and she found a half dozen guns pointed at her.

She jumped, then sighed with relief when she saw Hunt in the middle of the horde.

They all lowered their guns and Hunt rubbed his chin like this sort of thing happened every day. "All right," he addressed his men. "Who let that lady get in here?" he said like he was scolding children.

"Sorry, sir," they all mumbled.

One of the braver agents spoke up. "We thought she was one of our own."

"Rookie mistake," Hunt said angrily. "Sorry 'bout that," he said to Beckett.

She looked down at the woman who had just tried to kill her. "No biggie."

Hunt dismissed the rest of the agents and climbed over the woman's body into the elevator, hitting the button of the floor they had just left. "I'm glad we got that out of the way."

The woman groaned and clutched her bullet wound. "You think it's over?" said the woman. "He'll send someone else for you. He's got a whole line of people coming and he won't stop until he gets the result he wants."

"Who's _he_?" asked Hunt, crouching down next to her.

The woman clammed up immediately.

Hunt nodded and looked up at Beckett. "All right. You won't be so loyal to him after a few hours with my men."


	11. Chapter 11

Beckett was moved to a new room with no windows this time and with no view from the outside, it felt even more suffocating; like being trapped in a box. Somehow, she and Castle felt more secure having a second exit. Now, if someone tried to get through the door, they would be cornered.

"Castle, he'll just send someone else," Beckett said, pushing herself higher on the bed.

Castle paced in front of her. "Then let's hope we nail him before he has the chance to."

A nurse was cleared through security and allowed in the room with the accompaniment of another guard who looked uncomfortable being there.

The poor agent stood in the corner, facing the wall and Beckett was grateful for that.

The nurse pushed back the sheet. "You're almost ready to start pushing, darling."

Beckett sighed with relief.

"Just another hour or two more."

"That's not _almost!_" she groaned.

Castle sat next to her and held her hand, supporting her as she experienced another shockwave of contractions. He began to sweat. "OhmyGod, ohmyGod, I'm going to be a dad in an hour!" he cried. He shook her by the shoulder. "And you're going to be a mom!"

"Castle-" she pleaded. He was only stressing her out even more.

His eyes grew wide and he began to pace again. "Where are we going to _live_?! We can't take a newborn on a plane! I know we said we wanted to keep him in the Hamptons for the first month but I don't think we'll make it back to America even!"

"Castle-"

"What if we get back and there's a whole big deal about whether the baby's American or French? That happened to Obama with his birth certificate thing a few years back… oh my God, he can never be president! Beckett, our son can never be-"

"CASTLE, CALM THE FUCK DOWN! NO ONE CARES IF OUR HE CAN'T BE THE GODDAMN FUCKING PRESIDENT!"

He looked dejected.

The agent standing in the corner gave him a sympathetic shrug and left with the nurse.

Castle sat down again. "Katherine Houghton Beckett, you have the dirtiest mouth I've ever heard on a woman."

She huffed unapologetically.

He kissed her on the cheek. "And it's so goddamn fucking hot."

She shot him a sarcastic smile and stuck her tongue out.

"One more hour," he reminded her. "Just think: Starbucks, Starbucks, Starbucks, Starbucks, Starbucks!" he chanted.

"Castle, you can stop now."

"Sorry."

* * *

Two hours later, and the Castle baby had yet to come.

"Just a little while longer, sweetie, you're doing great," said the nurse.

Beckett moaned and slammed her head repeatedly against the bed. She regarded the agent that came in also. "Did Hunt get any information out of that hit man?"

"He's working on her," the agent said over his shoulder, facing the corner.

"And is he playing good cop or bad cop?" asked Castle, imagining a torture scene like in the movies.

"Yes."

The agent and nurse left.

"You know what's bothering me?" Beckett asked after a few moments of silence.

"Besides the fact that you're pushing a tiny person out of your vagina?"

"Don't say the V word," she snapped. "You know that bothers me."

"Vagina."

"_Anyways_," she continued, "The woman who came after me- ow,ow,ow." She waited for the pain to pass. "She came in from the hallway but the bullet came through the window."

Castle frowned. "So whose bullet was that?"

"I think our hit man has an accomplice."

"Shit," he muttered. "And he's still out there."

"There's something else that's bothering me," she said, tapping her fingers against her thighs. "Why was it so easy to take out that lady if she's a trained assassin?"

"You're just badass like that," he replied.

"I'm serious, Castle," Beckett said. "I think there's more to this. If Bracken really wanted me dead, he'd have hired a good hit man to take me out with one shot. That sniper whose bullet came through the window- _ow, ow, ouch, ouch…"_

He gripped her hand.

"It missed me by a long shot," she said. "None of these people seem all that skilled at killing people. It's just suspicious."

"Well, be glad they're not," he said, rubbing color back into his palms.

She chewed her lip. "I mean, even _you_ have a better shot than that."

"Hey now."

"Sorry. But you've never even had any training…" she paused. "Do you think that Bracken still thinks he owes me?"

"I don't know," Castle said. "If he owed you, he would do you a favor. Deciding to only _almost_ kill you isn't exactly a favor."

Kate pushed her pinkie finger through the ring around her neck. "If Bracken _really_ wanted to kill me, I'd be dead."

"And if _you_ really wanted to kill _him_, he'd be dead."

"I do want to kill him."

"Are you sure? You had your chance plenty of times."

"Castle, I want to put a bullet through that bastard's skull."

"You're not a killer, Kate."

"Bracken murdered my mother. You have no idea how far I'd go to protect the ones I love."

He sighed. "There's no protecting her anymore. I don't want you to do anything stupid and wind up in prison." He decided to throw in a lighthearted joke. "Orange is not your color. Your skin looks best in cool colors or neutrals like blue or purple or grey."

She didn't smile.

* * *

"What do you mean, she's been _taken?_" Bracken hissed into the phone.

"Exactly that," said Black.

Bracken looked left and right. He was using a payphone and receiving shifty glances from the pedestrians. "Has she given anything up yet?"

"Nope. She's faring well, considering," Black told him. Hunt looked across the room where the hit woman sat tied to the chair, bleeding and unconscious.

"It's a good thing she doesn't know who I am then," Bracken scratched his forehead nervously. He couldn't be sure that his identity's stayed anonymous all these years. Word spreads fast.

"I'm afraid she does," Hunt bluffed as Black.

"What?! That's not possible. You're the one who sent her and you don't know who I am," Bracken panicked.

"Don't I?"

Bracken was livid. "Look, stop playing head games with me. Your job was to send an assassin to take out Kate Beckett and I expect you to follow through. How much do you want?"

"I don't want your money, Bracken."

He paused. So this guy _did _know who he was. "What do you want then?"

"I want your blood on my hands," Black said.

Bracken slammed the phone back on its hinge and stormed out of the booth. It seemed like everyone was turning on him; the FBI, CIA, and now his contacts were dropping one by one. Soon, he'll have no one left to turn to and he'll have to take matters into his own hands.

* * *

"Okay, hon," said the female doctor, "Ready to push?"

"No."

"Well, too bad, he's coming out anyways," said the doctor.

Castle took her hand. "Don't worry, sweetie, you're going to be fine."

Beckett shook her head. "I'm not worried."

Castle grimaced. "Ow, ow, ow, then why are you crushing my fingers?"

She loosened her grip. "Sorry."

"And you're going without an epidural?" asked the doctor, pulling on her gloves.

Beckett nodded, regretting it already.

There was a commotion outside the door and Castle stuck his head out to see what was wrong. His jaw dropped. "What are you guys doing here?!" he shouted at Ryan and Esposito. "Oh, nice to see you again, Mr. Beckett," he shook Jim's hand respectfully.

"Came to see our goddaughter," said Esposito, trying to push past the guards.

Castle stopped him. "No, you can't come in."

"Why not?" asked Ryan.

"I'm not going to let you see her like that," Castle remarked. "You'll never be able to look at each other the same." That would be unbelievably awkward at work. "Oh, but Mr. Beckett, you can come in if you want."

Jim looked into the room then at Castle. He backed into a chair. "No, I'm fine here," he said, remembering his wife's delivery and how messy that was. "I'll wait with the boys."

"But, Mr. Beckett-" Espo whined.

Jim patted the two plastic chairs next to him. "Come, sit."

Ryan and Esposito flopped down and sulked.

"Who was that?" asked Beckett, sweat formulating on her forehead.

"The boys," Castle shrugged, taking up post at her side.

"What?!" she yelled. "What the hell are they doing here?" she started to hyperventilate.

"Your dad's here too."

"Oh, God," she groaned, taking short quick breaths.

"Breathe," the doctor reminded her. "Calm down, it'll only make things worse." She glared at Castle. "And you, stop stressing her out."

* * *

She had never been more exhausted in her entire life. Even the one time she ran a marathon, she still hadn't been this tired. Her entire body ached; her back sore and her face soaked in sweat, it felt like someone had twisted a knife down there.

But it was all completely worth it when the doctor handed her the baby boy. He was perfect and she didn't think she could ever love anything more than her son.

Castle scooted onto the bed next to Kate and took the bundle from her; all pink and new and… slightly gross but adorable.

The doctor stood back. "Does he have a name?"

"Jameson," said Beckett, "Jameson Castle."

Jameson cried and twisted in his dad's arms and Castle held him tighter. He didn't even bother to hide the tears that fell onto the blanket. This was his son. _His _Jameson; a baby he made with Kate Beckett, the love of his life. It all seemed so surreal and he couldn't believe it was actually happening to him. He was the luckiest guy in the world.

Jameson weighed in at 7.4 pounds, 19 inches. When he finally opened his eyes, his parents were met with the most stunning blues. They weren't dark blue, like Castle's, but more like a cool ice color with flecks of silver and gold here and there. He had Kate's lips, Castle's nose, and her cheekbones. One thing was certain; he was going to be a looker when he grew up.

Jim knocked on the door and they nodded to the guards to let him in.

Esposito and Ryan followed closely behind.

"Hi, Dad," Kate smiled as Jim gave her a long hug.

"Katie, you scared the hell out of me," he said into her shoulder.

"Yeah," Esposito nodded, looking at Castle. "You let us believe that you blew up!"

"Sorry about that," Castle mumbled. "We kinda had to disappear."

"You guys are the worst hide-and-go-seekers," Ryan shook his head good-naturedly.

"Do you want to hold him?" Castle asked Jim.

Mr. Beckett carefully took Jameson into his arms. "He's beautiful, Katie."

"I know," she said proudly, poking at the blanket around Jameson to make sure he was still doing okay.

Castle stood up and crossed his arms.

"Bro, are you crying?" Esposito asked Ryan.

Ryan wiped his eyes. "Yeah."

Castle coughed, fresh tears springing up. "Me too!"

They hugged it out.

Esposito and Beckett shook their heads.

After a few minutes, Jim handed Jameson off to Ryan who was an old pro with babies.

Jim got back to business. "Where are you two going to go from here?"

Castle looked to Kate. "Well, sir, I was planning on renting out a cottage around here for the time being until Jameson is old enough to travel. Then, we'll stay at my house in the Hamptons for a little-"

"I meant about Bracken," Jim corrected.

"Oh, well, Castle's dad is working on that," Kate reassured him.

"Your dad?" Jim asked.

"He's a spy."

Jim nodded. "Of course. What else. Agent Shaw sends her best by the way."

They were both comforted by the fact that Shaw was on the case. If anyone could take down Bracken, it was her.

Ryan offered Esposito a turn to hold Jameson.

Esposito shoved his hands in his pockets. "Nah, I'm good, bro." He didn't want to be the one to drop the newborn.

"C'mon, it's easy," Ryan said, passing him the baby.

"No, bro, I don't want-" He let out a sigh as he looked at Jameson. "Aw. Now aren't you cute?"

Jameson reached up a hand and pulled at the badge around Espo's neck.

Javi melted. "I'm your uncle Espo," he said.

"See?" Ryan tapped him on the shoulder. "Toldja it was easy."

Jameson started to scream, not appreciating being passed around like a hot potato when he wanted his mom.

"Okay," Esposito said, giving the baby to Castle who handed him to Kate.

Jameson stopped crying immediately.

"Huh," said Castle. "Would you look at that."

Kate smiled at her son's attachment but it also frightened her. She had never had anything that relies completely on her for its survival. He seemed so small and helpless and she hoped that she would be able to keep him safe from whatever comes his way. She had brought him into a dangerous world and now it was her responsibility to protect him.


	12. Chapter 12

Bracken reached for the phone, tired of waiting for everyone else to get the job done. Of course, he had since changed hotel rooms since he found the bug.

Little did he know that Detective Ryan had fixed wires to every suit jacket in his closet.

He kept one more anonymous contact at hand for absolute dire purposes only and his heart pounded as he made the call. He tried not to use this person because he knew who he was and it was just too much of a risk.

He flinches when the contact picked up. "Senator Bracken, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I need a favor."

"I'm on hiatus; lying low."

"Would 50K bring you out?"

"Possibly. What are we talking here?"

"I need you to go to Paris-"

"Nope, I'm on their most wanted list there. Nu-uh, nope. Too risky."

"100K."

"Who's the target?"

* * *

"Agent Shaw?"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I have to go," Jordan said to her daughter. "I'll be home on Thursday and Daddy and I will take you to the museum, okay? Okay, sweetie, I love you." She hung up and turned to the agent. "This better be good."

"He just reordered the hit," the agent said proudly. "And we've got him on recording."

"Good," Jordan nodded, turning to the monitors to check the video feed. "He's getting desperate. Make sure the guys in Paris know that someone's coming."

The agent saluted before leaving.

She watched as Bracken called his contact. "We've got you now, you son of a bitch," she muttered.

* * *

Hunt strode into the tiny hospital room. "He's sent someone else-" he stoped, seeing the newborn. "Is this my grandson?"

Castle clutched the sleeping Jameson closer to his chest. "This is my son and you're my father, so genealogically speaking, yes, this is your grandson."

Hunt kept a safe distance away from the family. "He looks like you," he said to Beckett.

"Did you find that agent's accomplice?" she asked.

"No," Hunt shook his head. "We checked the angle of the bullet and it led to the building across the street but no one saw anything out of the ordinary and we didn't see anyone suspicious."

Castle sighed.

"But," Hunt added the silver lining. "Agent Shaw said that they got a recording of Bracken ordering the hit."

Beckett's face lit up. "Is it online yet?"

"No, the CIA wants to hold off a bit until they can get some solid evidence; a paper trail or a something that doesn't violate Bracken's constitutional rights," said Hunt, leaning into the corner. "And we've got a whole team stationed around the hospital; there's no way anyone will get through to you."

"Thank you," Beckett said appreciatively. They could never have hoped to get this far without his connections.

Hunt waved it off. "I'm just doing my job…"

Castle looked away.

"And," Hunt continued. "You're my family, after all… even though I haven't been around all that much."

Castle snorted.

"Okay," he resigned. "I haven't been around at all." Hunt directed the next part at his son. "But you turned out to be a much better man as a result." With that, he shuffled out of the room.

Castle accepted this and moved on.

Beckett crossed her legs and sank back into the pillow; the rough fabric rustling as she did.

Jameson stirred and reached out a tiny hand.

Beckett met his fingers with hers to let him know that she was there. "I never thought I'd see the day that I'd be a mom," she said quietly.

Castle sat down next to her, his one foot dangling off the side of the bed. "Me neither. But I think I like this version of you best… although I like the sexy badass cop version too."

She laughed and smacked him playfully.

"Jamie, Mommy's beating up on Daddy again," Castle said to his son.

Jameson giggled when Beckett hit him a second time.

"See, Castle?" she said, "He's totally a momma's boy."

Castle kissed Jameson on the forehead. "Well, we have plenty of time to change that don't we?"

"In your dreams," Beckett mumbled.

* * *

That night, Jameson slept curled up on Castle's chest.

Castle kept one protective arm on Jameson's back and one around Beckett whose head rested on his shoulder. It seemed like everyone liked using him as their personal pillow.

He carefully turned his head to the right so as not to disturb either one of them and looked to the hall where two armed guards stood watch. Their gazes were affixed at one spot on the floor and they never moved a muscle for the entire time they stood there.

He fell asleep to the sound of his family's breathing.

* * *

There was a light, barely audible ticking staccato coming from somewhere. Somehow, the sound had found its way into Castle's dream.

In it, Bracken was standing on top of Big Ben holding Jameson over the edge. He kept running for them but every time he came close, they would be another mile away. The ticking was the sound of the hands of the clock tower moving quickly, counting down until an unknown time. Castle didn't know what would happen when that time came, but it was something bad. He could see Beckett in the distance, forever out of his reach. She was saying something that he couldn't hear over the chimes of the clock that was gradually increasing in a crescendo until each tick was as loud as a bomb.

* * *

The world exploded and Castle was jolted awake. Instinctively, he turned over and curled himself up to protect Jameson. The entire room was on fire and he lifted his head to look for Beckett.

She was in the corner of the room, covered in rubble and coughing up dust. "Castle!" she yelled.

His hand cradled the back of Jameson's head and Castle checked him to see that he wasn't hurt. He was screaming bloody murder but he was more or less okay. Castle sighed with relief. "He's fine!" he told her.

He squinted through the smoke and stood up. "Beckett! Are you okay?"

She went into a fit of coughing. "I- I think my leg is broken."

He dodged out of the way as the ceiling caved in; wooden beams falling to the floor in front of him. He and Beckett were separated by a wall of fire. "Hold on! I'm going to get you out!"

She coughed again. "No! Don't I'll be fine, get Jameson out, Castle, he can't breathe in the smoke."

"Right," he said, turning to the door. Somehow, the frame had remained standing and the agents were trying to kick it open. When he got outside, Hunt was there, yelling at them.

"You can't reach her from this side, but if we make our way around from the outside, we should be able to get her out," Castle told them.

Alarms were blaring around them and the entire ward was in a frenzy; the doctors and nurses rushing here and there to get the other patients out of the burning building.

The agents stayed behind to make sure no one else tried to get into the room while Castle, Jameson, and the Hunt rushed to the opposite side of the room that had been blown out.

Thick, black smoke poured from the opening and Castle stood back as Hunt bravely ran headfirst into it.

Castle shuffled nervously from one foot to the other as he saw red flashing lights over the top of the hospital.

Moments later, his dad came back carrying Beckett fire-fighter style and deposited her safely in the grass.

"Beckett!" he shouted, enveloping her in a tight hug.

Jameson cried in protest of the pressure.

"Careful, Castle!" Beckett said, wincing and pulling away. She had a deep gash starting at her hairline and ending on her right cheek and her ankle was twisted at an awkward angle.

"We need to move," Hunt said after talking to someone on his wireless. "We're too exposed, the bomber could come back."

Castle crouched onto his knees and put a hand under her arms while balancing Jameson in the other. "Can you walk?"

Kate gasped in pain as she put weight on her leg. "No, I don't think so."

Hunt tossed her arm over his shoulder and told her to lean on him. He nodded to Castle. "Let's go, we need to get somewhere safe. I have a van out front."

"That's too far," Castle protested, hurrying after them. "If this guy who put the bomb there is still out here, he'll spot us for sure."

"That's why we're going back inside," Hunt said through gritted teeth as Beckett limped along beside him.

"We can't go back in!" Castle shouted over the fire engines and alarms. "The building is getting weaker by the second, it'll come down on top of us!"

Hunt whirled around to face him. "You got a better idea, son?"

Castle's mouth snapped shut and he ran ahead of them to open the door for them.

The smoke inside was suffocating and Castle unbuttoned his shirt to cover Jameson with it, ducking low to the ground like they always taught him to do at Fire Safety Day in grade school.

They walked down the hall towards the front exit while the flames engulfed the walls around them. As they passed a wide window, the glass shattered, falling to the ground on top of the fire and bullets rained around them.

Hunt positioned himself so he was between the line of fire and Beckett and Castle ran sideways for cover.

"Looks like that second man came back," Beckett into her arm, stumbling over a fallen ceiling beam.

A firefighter rushed towards them, picking Kate up and rushing outside before coming back for the rest of them.

Once they were outside, Hunt pointed them towards the van on the other side of the parking lot.

"Get down!" someone shouted as bullets made contact inches away from them.

Castle forced Jameson into Kate's hands and a horde of agents made a human shield around them as they made their way to the van.

Firefighters, police officers, agents, and hospital workers alike dropped to the ground in a pool of blood as the sniper rapid-fired at anyone that got in his way of the target.

Castle threw open the back doors of the van, climbed in, and dragged Beckett and Jameson in after him. Hunt closed the doors once he was inside and told the agent behind the wheel to drive.

The agent nodded and floored it; swerving precariously close to the other cars as they sped out of the parking lot.

They all searched for handholds so they wouldn't be tossed around the back. As they hit a speedbump, they went flying into the air.

"Ow," Castle said, rubbing his swollen head. "Think you can slow down?" he asked the driver.

"No can do," said the driver, jerking the wheel hard to the right to skip a red light.

Hunt was busy checking on Kate and the baby to notice that the driver wasn't one of his own.

Beckett winced as Castle's father dabbed up some of the blood on her face. "I'm fine," she sniffed, looking down at Jameson who was crying. "Shh, shh, sweetie, it's okay, I'm here, everything's fine."

"Gun!" Castle shouted as the driver pulled a piece from inside his jacket. He dove for the guy's arm and his shot went amiss; the bullet ricocheting off the roof and embedding itself in the floor.

Castle punched the guy in the throat and the gun fell from his hand.

Hunt snatched it up and put a bullet in the driver's skull before throwing him out the window. He took over the wheel, ignoring the blood dripping from the ceiling

Beckett lost it. Maybe it was her hormones or maybe she just couldn't take this adventure anymore but she flipped a shit. "HOLY CRAP, THIS IS INSANE!" She smacked the back of Hunt's seat with the heel of her hand. "HOW DO YOU NOT RECOGNIZE YOUR OWN PEOPLE?!"

Hunt recoiled. "I'm sorry, I thought-"

"I'LL TELL YOU WHAT YOU THOUGHT, YOU _DIDN'T_ THINK, THAT'S IT!" Beckett shouted.

"Sweetheart," Castle said tentatively. "Please, calm down."

"DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, RICHARD CASTLE, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT DANGER I'VE PUT JAMESON IN?!"

"You put Jameson in? This is _my fault_," Castle shot back, his voice rising. "My job as the man is to protect my family!"

"Oh, please," Beckett scoffed, rolling her eyes. "That is so 1940s of you. It's just as much my responsibility to defend our baby as yours. I'm the one with the gun, after all."

Hunt glanced into the back. "Would you two please stop arguing-"

"Shut up!" Castle and Beckett said in unison.

"This isn't your fault, Castle-"

"Yes it is! Your job's done, you pushed him out of your-"

"Castle, don't you dare say the V word-"

He threw his hands up and got in her face. "Vagina! Vagina, vagina, vagina!"

Beckett punched him in the shoulder.

Jameson giggled.

"Guys, knock it off-" Hunt said, trying to focus on the road.

"It's my fault!" she yelled.

"No, it's _my_ fault!" he shot back.

"No it's not!"

"Yes, it is!"

"Okay, it's your fault."

"No it's not!"

"Ha! I got you," Beckett laughed triumphantly. "You just admitted it isn't your fault!"

Castle thought it over. "It's not your fault either!"

"It's the third party's fault," Beckett decided, "It's Bracken's fault!"

"Yay, it's Bracken's fault," Hunt interrupted, "Now please, shut the hell up or I swear, I will turn this van around and leave you to fend for yourselves."

They stopped arguing.

* * *

The van came to a stop in front of an unmarked building they could only assume was Interpol headquarters.

Hunt took the keys out of the ignition and ran a hand through his mussed, silver hair. "Okay, everyone out."

Castle opened the door and helped Kate out. He stretched and cracked his back. "That was a fun ride."

"Yeah," Kate agreed. "But let's never do it again."

Castle gingerly touched her cut. "You know it's not your fault that his happened, right?"

She nodded silently.

He put his arm around her and they followed Hunt inside, hip to hip.

"You'll be safe here," Hunt said, walking backwards through the lobby. He looked completely at home here in the high-ceilinged, CIA-like quarters. The lights were dim and other government agents walked to and fro like it was all no big deal.

"That's what you said about the hospital," Castle pointed out.

Hunt shrugged. "There's underground chambers lined with four feet of indestructible steel and reinforced ceilings with a fingerprint, password, and voice-recognition door security. Does that sound safe enough for you?"

Castle sighed. "I suppose it'll have to do." He broke into a wide smile and held his hand out for Hunt. "Thanks… Dad."

Hunt blinked rapidly as he shook his hand. "Anytime, son." He cleared his throat. "It was nice meeting you, Kate."

They shook hands.

"Thank you again, Mr. Hunt," she said.

Hunt shoved his hands into his pockets and turned to go. "Someone at the front desk will show you where to go, just mention my name. I have to go take care of some things in Ireland." He began to walk away. "Take care of Jameson. He's got a life full of adventures ahead of him."

"Hey, Dad?" Castle called after him. "Thanks for the book."

Hunt turned back and saluted him.

* * *

"Mr. Bracken?" his PR agent- a mousy woman with horn-rimmed glasses named Sylvia- said outside of the meeting hall. "I have some bad news."

Bracken's heart dropped. "It's _Senator_ Bracken, actually."

"Actually," Sylvia said smugly. "I don't think so." She took out her iphone and punched in a web address then held the screen up to his face.

It was a CNN newscast with the headline, **Senator Bracken: leaked footage brings up questions of candidacy.**

"This morning, this video recording popped up on WriteRCastle's Twitter page, instantly going viral," said the news anchor. "It shows Senator William H. Bracken, a potential presidential candidate, offering 100K of our taxpayer dollars to send someone to Paris. The phone call in question does not specifically suggest anything, but sources at the CIA and FBI say that he was ordering a hit on Detective Katherine Beckett of the NYPD. The reason for this is unknown but one thing is certain: Senator Bracken will have a lot of explaining to do. The footage presented by Mr. Richard Castle can't legally be used against Bracken in court but authorities are now looking into the senator's financial records and past…"

"Why were you sending someone to Paris?" asked Sylvia, putting the phone away. He had so many other concerns besides an impromptu trip to the UK from what she'd heard that the media has found out so far.

Bracken buried his face in his hands. He'd just lost all of his power in one stupid video that showed up on Twitter. But this wasn't over; he still had one more job to finish.

He turned on his heel and stalked out of the building. He was going to Paris.


	13. Chapter 13

Bracken boarded the plane last-minute to Paris, adding to his already generous amount of frequent flier points.

"Great to see you again, Senator," an overly friendly flight attendant said.

He gave her a half-hearted smile before ordering a scotch and reclining his first-class seat. He looked to his right where a business man was watching the news; coincidentally, the feature on him. The man tapped the guy in front of him and turned the screen towards him.

Both of them stared openly at him.

When the flight attendant came back with his drink, he asked to move seats.

* * *

They were shown to the secure room complete with six sets of army-like bunk beds. Before the door was shut, the agent who had shown them to the room told them that once it was closed, it could only be opened from the inside for maximum security.

Beckett immediately laid down on the first bunk with Jameson and took a nap, exhausted from the events of the day. She was pretty sure that if there was an award for Most Difficult Delivery, she would take the cake. She wondered if there was such an award when there was a loud buzzing.

Castle got up and pressed the button below the speaker and monitor next to the door. An agent stood with Esposito, Ryan, and Jim in front of the camera.

"Sir?" said the agent, "permission to enter?"

Castle unlocked the door to let the three in, then promptly slammed the door in the agent's face, not ready to trust anyone else at that point.

"Hey guys," Castle said. "Join the party."

"Wow," said Esposito, choosing a bunk. "Low tech."

"Yeah," Ryan agreed, looking around the dull room. "You'd think they'd at least give you a deck of cards. What do you do around here?"

Jim kissed his daughter hello.

"Hi, Daddy," Kate said, sitting up. "Being a mom's hard."

Jim laughed and sat next to her. "That's exactly what your mother said after having you."

She gratefully accepted her dad's offer to take Jameson while she slept.

Castle tapped his foot anxiously, pressing the boys for news in the outside world.

"The Bracken epidemic's gone viral," Ryan informed him.

Castle nodded. "Where's he now?"

Esposito looked at Jim who shook his head. "He's… AWOL."

"What?!" Beckett said, sitting up quickly and hitting her head on the bunk.

"Authorities are tracking him now and if he tries to leave or enter the country, we'll know," Ryan explained calmly. Beckett was scary as it was. He wasn't ready to face Hormone Crazy Beckett.

"And they don't know where he is now?" asked Castle, taking Jameson from his grandpa.

"Nope," Esposito shook his head, disgusted. "It's the feds, man."

Beckett rubbed the lump forming on her head. "How does one lose a goddamn _senator?_"

"Pretty easily, actually," Ryan said unhelpfully.

"Well the good news is," Castle chirped, "there's no way he can get to us in here."

Beckett nodded distantly, "Right."

Castle saw that spark of rebellion in her eyes and it scared him. He just hoped that she didn't do anything stupid in her hunt for blood.

* * *

In the middle of the night, while everyone was drifting off to sleep, they were alerted that Bracken had landed in Paris moments ago and a team had gone to apprehend him.

Castle, who had gotten up to answer the call, looked over to Beckett to see if she had heard. She either hadn't or was pretending she hadn't.

After hanging up, he cuddled next to her and Jameson to make sure they were okay. Even though he was pretty sure that Bracken couldn't get to them in the headquarters, just knowing that he's on the same continent set him on edge.

* * *

Beckett sat up, feeling the space next to her where Castle should have been. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and looked around the bunker. "Hey guys," she addressed the room.

Esposito turned over and put a pillow over his head. "Five more minutes, ma," he muttered.

"What's up?" asked Ryan.

Beckett held Jameson closer to her. "Where's Castle?"

Her dad lifted his head off the bed. "What's the matter?"

"Castle's gone," she said, the panic rising in her.

Jameson, sensing his mom's discomfort, awoke and stared up at her without making a sound.

Jim laid back down and pulled the sheet over his waist. "He probably just went to the bathroom."

Beckett knew better. She swung her feet onto the floor and made her way to the door, punching in the security code to open it.

"Beckett," Ryan said, "I know what you're thinking and he's not that stupid."

"He _is _that stupid, Ryan," she protested, standing in the opening and looking down the deserted hall. "You have no idea how far he'd go to protect us." All Beckett wanted to do was go find Castle and every moment she spent talking to Ryan, the farther he got from her.

Ryan nodded, understanding that there was no talking her out of something once she put her mind to it. He reached into his holster and handed her his piece. "Just be careful."

She nodded and handed him her baby. "You're going to stay with Uncle Kevin while Mommy goes find Daddy."

Jameson stared blankly at her, having no clue what's was happening.

Ryan relieved her of Jameson and locked the door behind her.

* * *

Just as Castle was about to enter the hotel, he heard someone shout his name. He whirled around to see Beckett standing across the street.

His shoulders sagged and he looked from her to the door and back again.

As soon as the road was clear enough, she sprinted to him and threw herself into his arms and he clung to her.

"Don't ever leave me like that," she sighed, her nails digging into his back.

Castle lifted her off the ground as he hugged her tighter. "I won't."

When he set her down, she eyed the gun-shaped bulge in his waistband. "Castle, you don't have to do this."

He fingered the cool metal of the piece he had stolen from headquarters. "Yes, I do, Kate. You know it has to be done."

He expected her to put up a fight and wind up dragging him back to the bunker but she only nods and pulls the bottom of her shirt up, revealing her own gun. "Then let's get it done. Together."

He smiled and held the hotel door open for her.

"FBI," she said to the receptionist at the front desk, flashing her badge for a millisecond just to show it's there but not long enough so he can see that it's not an FBI logo.

Before anyone can stop them, they've hurried into the gold-painted elevator and Castle has pushed the button for the eighth floor.

"How did you know where to find him?" Beckett asked, checking that her gun was loaded.

He shrugged and drew the piece, raising it to check the weight and balance. "He's not exactly hiding."

The tiny black screen above the door turned from 7 to 8 and they hurried out.

Castle led the way, walking briskly down the hallway and stopping in front of suite 810. He banged on the door. "FBI!" he shouted.

When there was no response, Beckett backed up to kick the door in.

"Wait," Castle said. "Can I kick it? I never get to do it."

She rolled her eyes and stepped aside for him.

He jumped on the balls of his feet, cracked his neck, and shook his legs out.

"Oh, for God's sake, hurry up," she said.

Castle stopped, shifted his weight to his back foot, and kicked right in the center of the door. His ankle popped as it hit the solid wood and he fell backwards.

"Nice," Kate said, picking him up before kicking the door in herself.

"I loosened it for you," he muttered as he followed her inside the dark suite.

They fanned out, her covering the left half of the room and him, the right.

"Where is he?" Beckett whispered, pointing her gun around the dark space.

Castle moved to the balcony window and looked down. "Do you think he climbed?"

She joined him. "No, it's too far down, he wouldn't risk it."

"Do we have the wrong room?" Castle speculated.

The lights flipped on just as someone grabbed Beckett from behind.

"Castle!" she shouted as an arm closed around her throat. She felt the cold metal of a gun on her temple.

"I've been expecting you to come," Bracken hissed, his eyes ablaze with rage.

"Let her go, Bracken!" Castle yelled, raising his piece.

Beckett pulled at his arm, trying to move it from her windpipe. "Castle," she gasped.

Bracken, having the upper hand, decided to toy with them a moment longer. "You destroyed my career. And now I'm going to destroy you."

"No one has to get hurt," Castle tried to negotiate.

Bracken threw his head back and laughed. "We're way past that point, my friend. Someone has to die here and it ain't going to be me."

Castle looked at Beckett who winked.

Beckett, using all of the combat training she had accumulated over her years as a cop, stomped hard on Bracken's foot. While he was distracted, she turned, grabbed his gun hand before he could fire, twisted, and transferred it over to her own hand.

She backed up next to Castle, pointing two guns at once to have a total of three.

Bracken was slightly hunched over and he looked up at them with cold eyes, a smile spreading across his face.

"It's over," Beckett said, catching her breath.

Bracken let out a small laugh. "You're not going to shoot me."

"Oh yeah?" Castle challenged. "What makes you say that?"

Beckett took her gaze a moment off of her target.

The senator, the man responsible for Johanna Beckett and many other's deaths, straightened up and smoothed down his perfectly tailored suit. "Because you're not that type of people."

Their guns lowered slightly.

"That's right," Bracken said smugly. "You're too good for that type of kill."

"You have no idea," Castle breathed, "what I will do to protect my family."

A fire was shot.

"CASTLE, NO!" Beckett shouted.

But it wasn't his gun that went off.

They looked up from Bracken's lifeless body to see Jim Beckett drop his gun.

"Dad!" Beckett exclaimed.

Jim was in shock as he stood in the doorway, the weapon at his feet. "I'm sorry, Katie."

She hugged him. "What are you doing here?"

Jim put his arm around his daughter. "Richard isn't the only one who needs to protect his family."

Castle was dumbfounded. He nudged Bracken onto his back with his foot, still barely alive, holding onto his life by threads.

Jim had shot him directly above the heart.

Bracken's eyes were slowly glazing over as he said, "I'm going to get you. You'll see," he coughed once. "I'm going to get you."

"Yeah," Castle scoffed. "And our little dog too."

Kate tried not to smile. "You've caused a lot of trouble in my life, Senator, and now you're getting what was coming for you all along when you signed that agreement with the PD." Her tone was laced with pure hatred but she couldn't help but feel remorse as she watched him struggle.

Bracken's hand trailed up to the bullet wound, using the last bits of his strength to raise his arm. "I'm sorry," he croaked, "about your mother."

Both Kate and Jim's jaws went slack.

"She…" Bracken's face contorted as he spit out his final words. "It wasn't… personal… she just… got… in… the… way at the… wrong… time. I'm sorry." Then, his head fell back and he was gone.

* * *

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Hunt yelled when they came back to Interpol headquarters. "I went to all this trouble to help you and then you were just going to throw it away in one instant so you could have your hero moment?"

The other agents in the lobby stopped and stared.

"Do you have any idea what I'm going to have to do to cover this up? This will mean paying millions in repercussions to put this away!" said Hunt angrily, belting out expletives.

Ryan, standing a few feet away, covered Jameson's ears protectively.

Esposito looked away, uncomfortable by the confrontation.

"Well the good news is," said Castle cheerfully, "It's all over now and you can go back to traveling the globe and never see us again."

Hunt's face calmed. "Don't worry, son. I have a feeling we'll be seeing each other again really soon." With that, he nodded to everyone, turned on his heel and left.

* * *

EPILOGUE

"Soon after the police scandal involving Senator Bracken came into light," said the stiff-haired news anchor, "authorities found Bracken dead in his hotel room. CSU ruled it as suicide and reports are still coming in regarding the case…"

Castle took the remote from Kate's hand and turned off the TV.

"Hey!" she said, reaching for the remote. "I was watching that!"

He held it teasingly over his head then promptly tossed it out the open window into the garden outside. It was their second week in the cottage, a charming stone chateau right outside of Paris that Castle had bought as a vacation house, and the news about Senator Bracken had spread worldwide.

"It's time for dinner," he said with a wide smile.

Beckett raised her eyebrows and looked down at Jameson who was lying happily in her arms, entertaining himself with her hair. "Daddy made dinner for once?"

Jamie clapped his hands together and put a fistful of curls in his mouth, his eyes bright with glee.

Castle took the baby from her and set him down in the crib off of the kitchen before leading her outside the villa. The porch overlooked a small vineyard; the inky sky lit my millions of stars. Kate was pleased to find a candle-lit dinner waiting for her, spaghetti of course, on a round metal table covered in a white cloth.

Rick pulled her chair out for her but before she could sit down, he stopped and stared at the table. There was something new decorating the table that he hadn't noticed before.

Tucked in the flower arrangement, was a thick leather-bound book. He picked it up and read the spine.

**Casino Royale**

Written on the inside cover was a message.

_A bedtime story for Jameson Castle. Love, Grandpa Hunt_

* * *

**That's all, readers! It's back to school for me and I'm taking a short hiatus from writing fanfiction. (Ugh, I have to start doing reports on things other than Castle) I'll miss my FanFic correspondents dearly! Check out Season 5 Castle bloopers and try not to laugh at Jon and Nathan, I challenge you! ;)**

**Love me or not,**

**Abby**


End file.
